Their ambition in the sky, gold they see by the sea.
Advertising their brands, importance to be seen.
A world that doesn’t extend further than this coastal strip.
Centre fold trophy girl, doesn’t move more than two inches from his hip.
Divorces, money and real estate, the topics of the day.
They eat, breath and smell money, I miss the smell of fresh-cut hay.
The granite boulders of home and the slower pace of life.
Here, anchored yachts line expensive parking lots, boasting is rife.
Circles of boring pretty girls, out for a nights play.
Self centred, immature, little robots, doing it the gossip girls way.
Social media, fake smile, glamour shots, will make it look they had the time of their lives.
It will be only five minutes after they leave, before they get out their knives.
Dotted little gems of good people, a few clear grains of sand on a golden beach.
Only wish to the rest of these people, their down to earth values they would teach.
Swamp was drained to build for the ‘high and mighty’.
They think they are the pinnacle, but really a sinking society.
© Deon Heemskerk 21-2-2012