Life is payday.
You have fifty dollars in your pocket
along with the daydreams of what you might buy
roses for your future lover
the promise of opportunity.
Life is tax day.
You somehow owe it fifty dollars
along with your daydreams and promises
your roses and your lover
the reality of hard work gone to waste.
Life is economy.
Where the market flashes hot, fish will bite
but you can supply all the try and wish and give
demand demand, but Life will seek what it wants
when the market dries cold, you’ll be down and out
you can’t beg a dime.
Life is a rigged capitalist dictatorship.
You have no control over luck or fair
but it will assure you that you do
propaganda posters with your estranged Uncle Sam’s prodding finger
promoting you too can have a slice of his pie
if only you try, wish, give, demand
but Life will do as it pleases.
Life is your last dollar bill.
It rests alone in your fraying wallet
you take it out with calloused fingers, dirty nails
crumpled symbol of dreams and dreams defeated.
You hate it, you cherish it, either way
you know you have to spend it.