Late Stage Capitalism
*i don’t not write rhyming poems - what a challenge this was*
Growing old, yet much still not done.
Many years of hard work and not much fun.
I have ridden the waves of the promised dream,
But the world is what it seemed.
Many years of desk jobs at minimum wage
That could have spent putting words to the page.
I have laboured so long to a heavy toll,
Become hollow bones without a soul.
I have been blind to the moments that matter most,
And failed to keep those that matter close.
I want to feel, I want to know.
I want to love, I want to grow.
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