Ode to Mr. Market

Mr. Market:

You used to be so good to me,
I was making money as if it grew on a tree.
Your prices climbed to higher highs,
A daily advance was no surprise.
But then one day, no notice in advance,
You took a completely different stance.
Although the economy was looking dreary,
You had put your reliance on the "greater fool theory."
You began to stutter and get real scared,
As if out of no where, you finally cared.
That the prices you had set made no sense,
Some stocks you'd priced high weren't worth a pence.
You puked and belched and ran away,
As if America was nearing doomsday.
Some people think you are quite efficient,
But it's clear to me you are totally DEficient.
Your reputation is now in the tank,
Investors have a new lover-the Federal Reserve Bank.
You see, Mr. Market, you're now impotent and unable to please,
Like an elderly man who can't pleasure his main squeeze.
But we'll come back to you when the Fed has done the trick,
Until then, though Mr. Market, I think you're a PRICK!!

Signed,
WS