Possession is a poisonous vine
It shackles the body and clutters the mind
For what do I ever possess that’s mine?
Career is a sham, a clever design
For what would I rather glean from the grind:
Glistening gold or the drab sands of time?
But choice is a luxury finer than wine
It isn’t and industry, nor can it be shined
Why laugh in new places when I can stay home and cry?
I’ll work all my life so I can buy and then die.
September 8, 2014