Fortune Favors the Soulless

A Poem

Jillian Spiridon
2 min readMay 9, 2022


Photo by Natalie Breeze on Unsplash

you think you’re the real deal, huh,
while the rest of us just pose
and you’re counting that money,
one dollar at a time,
a cash flow you could drown in

well, I’m not buying it
when you say you’re happy
in your little bubble world,
separated from any problems —
especially the ones outside your door

you watch the wildfires on TV
and pretend you’re innocent
while your machines choked
every bit of life from the land
and made a new graveyard

they catch your smile in fragments,
anything to advertise
what a good man you are —
but we smell the lie
as if it were cheap cologne

you cheer on war after war —
anything to drive stocks up or down,
anything to make you worth more —
and the truth is your humanity card
should have been revoked long ago

I’ll always believe it
when they say money corrupts —
because I’m seen no good come of it
as people build up their coffers
even though they can’t take it with them

maybe you were a good man, once,
but those stories are long past —
legacies for better people out there;
now the only thing you can cling to
is the hope of a planet that doesn’t know you

well, I know you,
and the world knows you —
and no space expedition can save
someone like you who sold away
his soul at the gambling table

oh, what a world —
one you’ll say goodbye to,
one we’ll die upon —
and so life goes on
in a bid for one last tragedy

This is another poem in the vein of the ones shared below:



Jillian Spiridon

just another writer with too many cats