Something a bit different today. I’m not trying to be the next Cummings, Eliot, Frost or Sandburg, but I sometimes enjoy the poetic experience (amateurish as it is):
It feeds, consumes and grows,
Each instant it appears we owe,
To purchase unaffordable clothes
And such, the insomniac of variable sins.
Destroying time, ineffable power replaced
By impatient items bought,
Years and years of wealth effaced,
Sleepless nights and tensions wrought.
Instead of warding off the debt,
Our Gargoyle shines to belie
The Poverty of certain times yet
To come and that may never die.
Money Poetry Challenge:
Everyday Money for Everyday People