Why should I believe that time is money,
When I've got so much on my hands,
But am still at battle stance with destitution,
Still deep in this hole and I can't seem to get out.
Why?
Why should I believe that time heals all wounds,
When for decades now am still struggling to nurse my bleeding heart.
The heart she teared apart, and fed up to the beasts of the wild.
And yet time won't free me up from the pain.
Why?
Why should I believe that pain strengthens.
When I have suffered for so long, and yet am still a weakling.
Stuck in a quagmire of pain and solitude,
Trapped in the depths of sheol, but I can't get used to the torment.
Why?
Why should I believe that success gives you freedom,
When there are so many tycoons still stuck in an iron cage.
Swimming in the pools of luxury with no smiles on their faces.
Soaring the heights of success, but can't pull themselves out of their depressions.
Why?
Why should I believe that money is evil.
When wealth is an essential measure of success
And everybody is unwilling to quit and give up the chase.
Why can't it be disposed of, so we can do without it.
Why?
©Jay Crown
J