The Coin

They say the coin's just air, a fleeting illusion, chasing shadows in a world of confusion. Fiats crumble, their value fades, as people toil, their dreams delayed. The market's dance, a deceptive game, promises riches, but it's all the same. Inflation rises, savings fall, the working class bears the brunt of it all. The pockets empty, only air remains, a cycle of toil, a world of chains. The ignorant speak, but truth is clear, our money is fleeting, and will disappear. So heed the warning, open your eyes, the value of money is built on lies. Seek true wealth,not market's Paper chase, for in the end, it's Bitcoin that sets the pace.