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#currency
Time. Time is unique. Time is considered infinite, But it is also limited. Time is a currency. A currency you can only spend. You can never gain time back, So what you spend it on is precious. You have a right to be picky Because your time is limited. It is limited in a way we do not know. As if we were all given a bag of time. This bag is unknown in its depths, So one day you can reach in And nothing will be found. You have a right to be picky. You have a right to say no. You can spend time on another Or you can spend it on yourself. But choose wisely who you spend it on Because others may toss your time away. Time you will never get back. Time is unique. Time is infinite, But it is also finite.
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Sep 15, 2025
Sep 15, 2025 at 3:25 AM UTC
Time is a Currency
Days flit by like a _Drip Drip Drip Drop_ As If watching a leaky faucet In a plugged sink The drops are slow to build Weighted down by their own mass As they reach a point where gravity can no longer be surpassed, To a _Drip Drip Drip Drop_ As they fall into the basin scattering ripples And splattering droplets As they fall Gathering light in a glittering bowl As the next drop slowly begins to flow By the _Drip Drip Drip Drop_ But once you’re attention is pulled And the visual is no longer there Only a sound heard Consistent tempo filling the air Seeming to speed where eyes can’t see And the budding drops fall carelessly With a _Drip Drip Drip Drop_ before you know it the basin is filled With the drops cascading beyond ones will And the ripples now scatter to waves against the brim Caving to gravities endless whim As a _Drip Drip Drip Drop_ Once you notice, it’s far too late The marble is shimmering with streams and ponds As it tallies the fee of water wasted _So too does time slip from the basin_ And the coins we pay exchanged with age To a _Drip Drip Drip Drop_ Before you know it time has come to a stop along with both the _drip_ and the _drop_
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Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 2:12 PM UTC
Leaking time
_***In the year of twenty twenty-five, Pi Coin’s journey comes alive. From mobile screens to blockchain’s might, A new dawn breaks, shining bright. Pioneers from near and far, Gather 'round, beneath the star. With wallets ready, hearts alight, They celebrate this wondrous night. Mining Pi was once a dream, Now it’s real, a flowing stream. Transactions swift, secure, and free, A decentralized economy. From nodes and codes, a network strong, Pi Coin’s future can’t go wrong. Empowering people, far and wide, With every transaction, a sense of pride. So here’s to Pi, in twenty twenty-five, A symbol of hope, a digital drive. As we embrace this new frontier, Pi Coin’s promise is crystal clear.***_
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Dec 22, 2024
Dec 22, 2024 at 3:36 PM UTC
Launch of Pi Coin in 2025
Night flees in darkness,      day sleeps. Now knocks on my door              shall I say "come in?"
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Apr 19, 2024
Apr 19, 2024 at 3:08 AM UTC
Now
Powered matter leaves their origin, Into a land in the distance, Residing in the hearts of children Offering everything but resistance, Exchanging life and his riches For the taste of blood in their kisses. A child is a sacrifice For what is right In the prophet’s eyes And minds that are blind To the lies that bind His cries and surmise-s. The prophet’s prophecy Is to gain profit from gases More flammable that propane. His fingers, crossed and lost, His veins, lost its blue, His skin, has turns chartreuse With the sight of the new moon. A new dawn begins With the same sun, Covered by new clouds. Sounds of the innocent, Muffled by the lead they’re Buried in. Their fears of growth Disappear with their sight. But it’s alright, It’s in the name of Liberty, Currency, and Democracy.
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Feb 6, 2021
Feb 6, 2021 at 1:12 PM UTC
A Prophet’s Prophecy
Moving along in life looking at all the different stalls I wonder how much it all costs If I could ever have it all What about one smile? What about an extra mile? What about a first love? What about the longest hug? I wonder if I will ever have enough Everything is so expensive I only have so little left Will it really be worth it? What if It was a waste? Something I could never get back I must spend it though Every little bit must be accounted for in the end This precious currency Nothing attained with it can be returned All sales are final Let’s buy this one smile Just one Oops Looks like it was upside down.
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Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 7:58 PM UTC
Currency or time?
a shell, a rock, valueless token of exchange Cain's creation, perhaps, impelled by hunger and his mark today a non attributable lie a picture of true faith - but the sword still stands - speaks more truth than any word can deeper its insidious roots grow for the greater its seeming efficacy displacing the currency of love for my enemies love me as themselves but the lie is true gnawing from the inside out from nations, to businesses, to people, a soulless heartless ********** remains by the sword you live, by the sword you die
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Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 11:19 PM UTC
Money
Waiting for a silver dollar Cold and true In a world full of plastic cards untrue
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Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 8:46 PM UTC
My Kind of Currency
Memorize poetry— Wonder what you did that for— Time is currency.
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Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 7:16 PM UTC
A Waste
the greatest gift anyone can give you is time in a world where attention is the new currency - what i have learned from social media
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
Lessons
Time is currency, Coins that I want to save up Just to spend on you.
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
Time is Currency
She says everything is currency and I couldn’t agree less.
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Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 5:40 AM UTC
You can’t buy love with insults
I don't work for a tangible currency I slave for digital binary 01101000 01100101 01101100 01110000 While I scribble poetry Emptying my personal winery
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Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
00100100
Your currency, should currently Be known for it's barbarity Your hostility, and severity Will flip minority to majority The reality and authority That we want to see desperately Is a community that concurrently Finds solidarity and integrity In the simplicity of sincerity Because, you know what? It's not easy, it's simple
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Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 11:12 AM UTC
Rise Up
Earth runs by mural Grows on soil alluvial Is more communal And less commercial. But all work illegal, Love for such is official All equal tasks disloyal. But at Money’s arrival They treat us special; Bliss and bless us total We are never trivial Comes position initial. Money is more disloyal Will leave you at trial. If one is in life’s trial Success of Money final. If you want to be ideal; No value only Money vital. Agree or not Money is real As with it we are acquittal. Don’t be completely asocial No practice of immoral, It leads to God’s dismissal; As we are never trivial Comes position initial.
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Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
MONEY - A CRUEL AGENT – 7
A pink small sparrow Comes at my halo And grants me furlough To travel through hollow; I do after her lonely flow But at my trail many glow With expectation inflow Of Money red or yellow. It made me strong fellow, From yesterday to tomorrow, Who travels lonely and slow By using a wheelbarrow. No friend or enemy allow Me to enter in his furrow. So ye decide judiciously now And choose relatives or sparrow.
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Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 12:19 AM UTC
MONEY - A CRUEL AGENT – 3
A beautiful and sweet girdle Collecting it is quite doddle Counting is like a hot fettle Touching it is a bit brittle. Let be the Geeta or the Bible, Let be grapes or pineapple, Importance of money able Is not be explainable. Money can make a castle Or buy handful cattle Or can earn a good title Or can bound to peddle. All is easily possible By the mint boodle. Carry them in a duffle Or in a golden vessel, It is going to be a rouble. So friends value a boodle And crave for it to chuckle The taunts of world little.
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Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 12:12 AM UTC
MONEY - A CRUEL AGENT – 5
My freedom of expression, Or, freedom to exist... I've had to suppress, any implication, That I was free, IT was free, Or that I could rest. My obligations became innovations, My "freedom" was a serious test. Shut my mouth. Silence my thought. Burn holes in my own sky... To survive, Just to... Get by. There's no blood on the hand of the devil begging for a gun... But, the blood of my son, My thoughts, my thighs, My sun, my sky... I'm paralyzed. I idealized and fantasised ...a metaphor... Something in-between dead and alive. But this is literal. Cry freedom for a body that fails. An existing breath that bent steel. Locked in the prison with 10 wardens. Slave to a super power. And I'm furious you sent me a bill. I ate your currency. I'm... Fed... Up. Your devil is free to stare, poke fun and share ...the misery... ...my suffering... I'm paralyzed. This is literal.
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Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC
Literal
What of empty words like love without feelings a currency without a bank to back it up, words expressed but not felt spent in amounts exceeding their value. What of love felt but not expressed deep like a vault where the most precious possessions are kept, or deep like a mine where the yawning veins provide only hints of their great worth a little bit at a time. We are growing an economy and between us we can pass Assignats or Continentals to our hearts desire, and yet when our hearts yearn for more it will only be the shining coin of the realm the pearl of desire that is assayed between us and only then will our economy stand or fall by what is backing our promise to pay the bearer on demand and redeem ourselves in return.
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Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC
Home Economics
I spend my love on you like pennies tossed into empty fountains of youth - like loose change loyally saved, built up in a piggy bank, a compilation of broken promises you never made becoming blood clots in my lungs. I would say they're in my heart but I can't breathe when I see her. Tax season is over and my savings continue to drain - they sit at your doorstep waiting to be cashed in for what I thought was an investment but has become a liquidation of my entire being. Empty wallets haven't caught wind of my addiction, but the pennies on the ground talk. Found heads down, I give them a voice, and they, too, drown with the rest.
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
Currency of the Mistress*
Looks like smiles and hugs and current seas for eternity, I will cover the spread and her head The price of her education hard knocks and maturation When fully flowered before spring and ticking timebomb within Eyes on boys wandering from books Broken everything and lasers for looks Her currency never grows thin Paid in full again and again If only the world knew what Made it spin Looks like smiles and hugs Refill my wallet *****
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 8:22 PM UTC
Farther Daughter