Humorous poem about death and wealth.
When you die
And are buried six feet under,
You can’t take it with you.
Not your precious jewelry,
Not your luxury yacht,
Not your pile full of money,
Or the Corvette you bought.
Forget about the mansion.
Forget about the hot tub too.
You’re in a box now,
And there’s nothing to do.
Whether you are rich or poor,
The bottom line is a hole.
That’s where you’ll live in,
Image via Wikipedia
And there’s no place to go.
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