Wednesday, 26 September 2012

Money


I feed you with money
And you make some feni,
He buys, but, she dies.
I buy him now,
Buy his love,

Money fly,
Turn truth to lie;
He sleeps in your shack—
Drunk to lips—
Fills your purse,
And, you pay me back.
My money grows like a monster,
Killing you, killing me,
Killing everyone else,
With surgical precision.

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