How much time do we have left
Until we take our final breath
Why isn't it enough to know
Our time is finite
To protect the flame of love
Instead of fanning the fires of hate
To work for human needs
Instead of needless greed
Trading hands full of sand
For a fist full of dollars
But our pay is already spent
Before we even touch a cent
We can taste the foul stench
as we inhale
Of a wick burning out our last
bit of air
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
How much time do we have left
Until we take our final breath
Why isn't it enough to know
Our time is finite
To protect the flame of love
Instead of fanning the fires of hate
To work for human needs
Instead of needless greed
Trading hands full of sand
For a fist full of dollars
But our pay is already spent
Before we even touch a cent
We can taste the foul stench
as we inhale
Of a wick burning out our last
bit of air
Request permission to use this poem