The Mirage

My grandpa once told me of a golden deer,
      running here there and everywhere;
Thought he saw water near
      Alas ! who would tell of the imaginery well nowhere.

Years passed, I grew big and strong
      My father told me of his animals and fields;
At the farm I felt the days short and nights long,
      I worked hard and realised my dreams.

I am a man now and living in luxury
      I have people working for me
And have nothing to worry ?
      Is it really? For I am rich only by money.
 
The market holds the cash in stacks,
      The banker boasts of lending so many.
The Bull and the Bear each patting on the backs
      Why am I standing so lonely ?

I dream to go away and own a farm
      How I remember my grandpa's words so warm !
'Aye my child ! The deer is safe in the foliage'
      'Alas !' I say, this is just a mirage.