Oh precious money giver of all good and unholy things where have the rich man stored his wealth, through toil and sweat or malice and greed, strife and hunger miseries and death the heart continue to collect its reward Give me more it whisper I want all I can get, there is no time to wonder about useless needs or ponder why can’t be fill, time marches on You poor man who are you and where are you going, born in my image but never in my likeness for I have wealth and position that makes me important, I Should tell you without you my poor friend I am nothing Where does the rich man gets his importance when all has wealth, how rich crumbles and die how all mighty works of valor is common every day struggle If I wear a rich man you would not find me in the house of prince nor in the halls of kings, I would be in the hearts of many, wisdom and knowledge has no audience needs no cheer offers no bribes collects no rewards Enjoy the mercy of the Lord live within his laws cherish his admonishment and hold fast to his teaching for then the true wealth of plenty you have got If I were a rich man, but I am not Copyright ©2006 Kenvil Atkins