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Behind the dimly lit screen,
There is hope that is blown softly.
The red line slowly turns green,
Erasing worries, dispelling fears.
Suddenly, the screen splits in silence,
The green candle soars, very high.
One percent, ten, even hundreds,
Numbers dance, breaking boundaries.
Once mocked as a fleeting dream,
Now the portfolio shines with colors.
No longer bowing to see the dwindling balance,
Because the bull is running exotically.
"To the moon!" they shout into the sky,
Forgetting sleep, forgetting the pain.
The financial world is being turned upside down,
Luck comes with just one click.
But r

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