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Money makes the world go round
But poisons the well of hope
And makes people turn into monsters

So simple
a tiny number we use to dictate
our own worth

but what happens
when I try to get on stable ground
and I can't even do that

Everything that has brought joy
is so daunting now
Everything that made me happy
Everything that brought me love
is gone

and I am alone

created by my own making

oh the simple sweet struggle
of trying to find your place
in this great big world
and trying not to be forgotten
in the seas of time
Getting crusty round the edges
Like a slice of day-old bread
From the bottom of my twisted toes
To the top of my balding head

Dehydrating like a side of beef
Jerky tough to chew
Not much of me is worth the keep
With nothing hanging that is new

Eyes that once were crystal clear
Now no more than a blur
Please speak loud so I can hear
The meaning of your every word

The lines I blamed on laughter
Aren't funny anymore
Ask me what's the matter
Long ago stopped keeping score

You can take this slice of day-old bread
Remove most of the mold
But when all is done and all is said
Man, I'm getting old
I could make it seem like such toil
And claim I bleed for my poetry
But it is not at all work
It is a joy for me
Elation of creation
And then I set it free
But I can’t really let it go
It’s still a part of me
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