Purse-ecutedA Poem by born4worshipA poem about my wretched purse, which I am always losingHow long must I be burdened by this shackle To what degree must my penance be paid Many moons I have bowed to this beast as it's slave
Oh my oppressive assistant How cumbersome your help I am enslaved by logical convenience
I hate you, but I love you I cast you away, yet I need you I am cursed by your constant company Harassed by my inevitable demand for you I loathe your nagging and persistent weight
Must I bare the badge of your annoyance forever Am I doomed to your discomforting tug Alas, I fear, I shall never escape you © 2008 born4worship |
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Added on March 28, 2008 |