Inflation

Around my fingers I watch pennies twirl, 

Like the pulse of nations, inflation's whirl. 

For the common soul, walking day by day, 

The climb of digits takes their breath away. 

Where once a loaf, a smile could easily buy, 

Now coins clench tighter, with a heavier sigh. 

A bubble here, a burst, a reckless loan, 

In the working hand's sweat, the loss is known. 

The worker's wage, stagnant, in the shadow lies, 

While towers of gold, into the skies, rise. 

A land, a house, dreams once firmly in grasp, 

Now in the ether, a future to unclasp. 

In marketplaces, the question lingers in air, 

To buy today, or tomorrow, in inflation's snare? 

The cost of living, a shadow growing tall, 

Affects the choices, the futures, of all. 

Yet, amid the storm, a silent beat remains, 

Of growth, of hope, in economic veins. 

For in the heart of economy, in the pulse of time, 

Lies the story of us, in prose, in rhyme.