Fiat robs the saver of peace,

Turning safety into risk,

Devaluing wealth held with care,

And forcing hands into the machine.

What once was simple—

To save, to hold, to build for tomorrow—

Now leads to loss as money fades.

So the saver, against their will,

Is pushed to gamble or to fund

The largest powers in the land.

Index funds swell with forced demand,

Propping up giants who crush the small.

Local businesses wither as wealth flows up,

While voting rights fall to distant hands—

Fund managers who serve the few,

Strangling the roots of the real economy.

Savings, once the basis of thoughtful growth,

Now feed speculation and empty gains.

In a world of sound money,

It's up to savers to invest in the future,

Nurturing innovation,

Guiding wealth with careful hands.

But in fiat’s grip, investment comes from air,

And the future is built on debt.

And here lies the bitter truth:

You must earn your money twice.

Once by the sweat of your brow,

And again by gambling in markets,

Just to keep what you've already earned.

There is no upside, only the scramble

To preserve the fruits of your labor

From inflation’s quiet theft.

You’re not building wealth,

But merely fighting to stand still.

The saver is left with no choice—

Either watch their wealth erode,

Or take risks they’re unfit to bear.

But even those risks, over time,

Barely match inflation’s ceaseless tide.

It’s not about growing wealth,

But about guarding what you’ve made,

Caught in a game where loss is likely

And mere preservation is the prize.

When the only options left

Are loss or risk,

There is no secure future—only a gamble.