(no subject)

[mislead_insight]

We work so hard to get ahead

And are left with either

A mound of money
To leave to our children
Who despise us
Despite what we have done for them
-How can they be so ungrateful?

Or we have the love lost by the other 5%
-overflowing with it
-until all we have is loneliness,
The sky above the mounds of love.
Devaluated currency that it is

Tragedy imbues our literary forms
To the point of extinction of greed
Of feeling
Of love

Until the only thing left
Is existence

And so, we eat our fruit