(wattpad killed my formatting oof)
Money is something that we hold so high above us, yet there really is nothing to hold.
It holds us back yet we hold it in a pocket
To give someone red roses or blue violets you'd have to exchange money
love isn't free.
If someone is ill and is on life support, you have to buy it
health isn't free.
If you want to have some joyful freetime you'd have to buy expensive electronics
leisure isn't free.
However; there are ways to compromise this.
You could write a poem about the red roses and blue violets
But paper and pencils would be an expense; but a minor one at that
You could make a charity for your ill loved one
But you're making others aid you with their money.
You can use your free time with a friend; and have fun with them and their things
Although it may turn into freeloading.
Money is power
Not only that but money is our society
Enjoying yourself comes at a price
Helping others comes at a price
And loving someone comes at a price.
Perhaps civilization would cease to exist if it weren't for our dozens of currency systems.
Perhaps civilization would thrive if our currency systems didn't exist.
Afterall, many wars have a financial focus
On something we cannot even touch
On something we made up millenia ago
On something that far too many people cannot achieve and die without
On something meaningless when you think of the grand scheme of the universe
Yet millions have died over this, over something useless.
Over an imaginary concept taken way too far.
Over glorified pieces of paper and chunks of metal.
Over a simple, two syllable, five letter word.
Money.
YOU ARE READING
A mess of letters // poems
Poetrysome poems that are a result of my head rambling on existential tangents