The world markets went into free fall today. All major indices fell, the Euro slumped and the dollar rose. Even gold fell. All the turmoil spurred local entrepreneur and business journalist, Mark Dewey, to put it all down...in a poem. Check it out:
Crash
A market crash is something like a giant gash
inside my soul. I was wrong, now I pay,
or maybe I was right but didn't say or didn't take the necessary steps.
"I told you so" I tell myself. I knew Europe would take us down.
It wasn't "priced in," and even though China's a place I've been,
emerging markets are the first to go when the line points down, and down.
I'll keep my gold, it's depressed but I'm not bitter,
give me that glitter over shares. What is money, anyway,
but some central banker's promise to pay, someday.
Debasement? I have my GOLD as just-in-casement.
Wish I had those bars in my basement.
Canada, my other haven, lots of water, oil sands,
and land. With boring banks they built to stay-- safe
and steady, eh? Canada's getting massacred, too,
what's a smart guy to do?
Cash is king, today at least. But mostly it's a lame beast.
Gets a little smaller every day. Amidst the doom around the world,
as war and greed and debt are hurled,
the only way to really end it is to get your cash and spend it.
Just don't get existential, start asking questions, waste
your time with deep reflections. What's a share, anyway?
A piece of paper that comes without even a promise to pay.
I staked my family fortune on that?
Of course, good sir, it's history. Rather elementary you see.
Stocks go up, it's always so, though it may not be tomorrow.
