Elon the ugly

There is one who takes all he sees

Insufferable greed, like disease

He must have it, all, it seems

Shiny things consume his dreams

But shiny things won’t make him wise

In his castle wisdom dies 

Don’t be crow turning around 

Collecting trinkets from the ground

And thinking highly of himself

With nothing but his useless wealth 

His trove he guards, lovely yes

His heart alone with emptiness

This crow collects his shiny things

Nuggets of stone and hobbits rings

A fidget, a trinket, a bit of glass

To show his wealth and show his class

The crow is beautiful and black

But his lovely things can’t love him back.