she sits at the head of the table with her tailor made suit

If you ask for a penny she’ll tell you “that request is mute”

Her crooked smile and cufflinks click with splendor

But among the rich she is quite the contender

She care not for the homeless nor the poor

She only worries about gaining more more and more

Her influence spans all across the globe

Much like the vast amount of clothes that fill her wardrobe

She’s owns every part of a company she’ll never settle with fifty fifty

As her life draws to an end her funeral is empty 

Even with all the money in the world she was buried like the rest

But ask the people their thought they say she was a pest