The city of Florijnia in Kapitaland,
Had a round of trading all ready and planned.
Last round it gave UB a run for its money,
The future was looking so bright and so sunny.
But as the round ran, we looked, aghast,
At the lack of trade in the land so vast.
And now as the city’s stocks flat-line,
We look and wonder if this is a sign.
Could the country’s days be numbered?
Like the countries of old that lie in slumber;
Old Virtua, Digi, Ibi and Cyb,
Now Florijnia is giving a similar vibe.
And some citizens there, now caught in a trap
Are watching and waiting and beginning to snap
Trying to leave but simply cannot,
Tried asking the Feds (worth a shot).
For mystical travel, a teleport,
But their effort seem to be yielding nought
So there they stay, trapped on the sand
Of the sunny, empty, shore of Kapitaland.