Friday, 11 January 2019

ℑ imagine the odds

Maybe it's time to play the odds?
I know, it's a mug's game.
The house always wins.
Assuming there is a house.

For some it'll be tower block investment vehicles.
The super-rich trying to become mega-rich.
They lose count to avoid the truth,
that they still don't own an island.

Maybe the ones with an island know the secret?
They preen themselves with untaxed advice.
Like don't spend too long deciding,
Just buy them all.

Maybe the political ones have it covered?
They say they speak for the rest of us,
Whilst investing in foreign cities and vague domiciles,
Through their long games and short markets.

Maybe we secretly know the answer?
There's a hidden door at the back of the shack.
It leads to the good times.
Or no, it's just another way back to the mountain.

Maybe no-one knows the answer?
And it's all just random noise.
Statistics won't help, nor facts, real or imaginary.
Like the square root of -25.

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