Rich,

Fancy,

Grand.

The town I live in,

The people have a lot of money.

Walk around in fancy clothes,

Trying to look cool.

They live in such grand places,

They're not mansions,

They're castles.

In this town,

There are no friends,

Only people to help you climb to the top.

This cruel hunted town,

Made out of gold.

Made out of gold that

When u touch,

Will burn your skin off.

The gold will make you cry,

And beg,

And wish

That you would've left instead.

The gold,

So bright and shiny,

It's so appealing.

Once you touch the gold,

You can't go back.

You get addicted to the pain,

The burn,

You'll always want some more.