Owed to a Bank

By Pamela den Ouden

Thy mighty halls intimidate the weak;
The poorest men stand mute, afraid to speak;
Thy marble walls guard secrets dark and deep;
Thy stairs, though grand, are never quite as steep
As interest rates.

As did Achilles in the days gone by,
We tackle armies, not afraid to die.
And yet one weak point caused his final fall.
We, too, are weak—our very life and all
Owed to a bank.