by Rachel Hoyt
image by idea go via freedigitalphotos.net
For generations, Bitman males
Had dreamt of growing cash -
Great great grandpa wrote down his fails
And how his pa was rash
To think that planting a few coins
Could sprout unbridled wealth -
(He tested ways to nurture loins
And what brings money health.)
He never did make money trees
Or his son after him,
But little Billy Bitman, (geez!)
His vision was less slim -
"Bits of data around the world
Are like rare gems," he thought.
Soon a new type of coin unfurled,
Not seen, but often bought -
It floated around time and space
With more, then less, value,
No one could see the tree's home base,
But still his dream came true -
A calculation burst a seed
And people bought its leaves,
Fertilized with secrets and greed,
It grew cash one perceives.
© 2013 Rachel Hoyt. All rights reserved.
Bitcoins (to some) are the latest, greatest thing,
but I believe its an imaginary value they bring.