Plethora [Of Poetry]

59

Why am I f a l l i n g endlessly
My family is b r e a k i n g relentlessly
Money? Where'd that g o
d o w n the drain of the white, plain building
It is used for s a v i n g someone
I know I should be g r a t e f u l
But it s u c k s to see you
s m i l e with green slips of paper in your hands
When I only eat n o t h i n g
And it s u c k s to see people
S t a r v e themselves
When they have the f o r t u n e
To eat with joy
W h y is it me
What plan does God have for m e
When I'll I be able to s t o p
To be f r e e