Draft in the author’s style. This poem was written for Poet of Wall Street to sit beside the author’s own readings, and is waiting for the author’s review. The commentary is a working draft too.
A man in a grey suit leaned in close beside the elevator door,
And he whispered me a secret that I shouldn't have heard before.
The company is merging, and the news breaks out at three,
Buy now, he said, and you'll be rich, and no one has to see.
My fingers hovered on the keys, my heart began to race,
For the fortune he was promising was waiting in that space.
But I thought about the worker with his pension in the plan,
And the widow with her savings who would trust an honest man.
A secret is a shortcut through a garden that's not mine,
And the fence around the garden is the law's unbending line.
So I closed the laptop gently and I let the whisper die,
For I'd rather sleep a poorer man than wake up with a lie.
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Commentary
A stranger offers an illegal tip before big news breaks. The speaker faces a quiet test of conscience.
“A man in a grey suit” whispers that “the company is merging” and the news “breaks out at three.” He promises “you'll be rich, and no one has to see.” The speaker's “fingers hovered on the keys.”
Thinking of “the worker with his pension” and “the widow with her savings,” the speaker sees that “a secret is a shortcut through a garden that's not mine.” The laptop closes, because “I'd rather sleep a poorer man than wake up with a lie.”