In marble halls where leaders meet,
They draft the numbers, bold, discreet.
With promises both grand and vast,
They spend as if the bill won't last.
The coffers bleed, the ledgers swell,
A silent toll, a creeping spell.
Each borrowed coin, a future chain,
A subtle source of growing strain.
They say, "Invest! The time is right,"
While shadows thicken out of sight.
Yet debt, unchecked, will soon demand
A price too steep for any hand.
Inflation knocks on every door,
The poor now pay a little more.
The markets quake, the rates arise,
And trust erodes beneath the lies.
What starts in hope may end in rue,
When debt outpaces what is due.
For every deficit ignored
Is one more burden we’ve implored.
Let prudence guide, not fleeting pride,
Or else we drift with rising tide.
A nation's strength, in balance lies—
Not just in dreams, but what it be.