A reprise of an earlier theme...
Payday has returned to me.
Paying bills has, too, you see.
The money I have earned must flee
Into the sea not owned by me.
If the words familiar sound
Of money flowing off to drown
Somewhere far off from the ground
Where I stand, this little mound,
There is a cause. The patterns hold.
Each month is cast from common mold.
I and others work for gold
To pay our debts; we cannot hold
What we would earn, not and still keep
Body and soul together. Reap
Rewards of living cheap
In the moment. Costs are steep
As the months and years go by.
We labor and we buy and buy
And the interest soon grows high
As paydays come and pay goes by.
But payday has now come again
And so, too, bills. How to defend
Following the crooked bend
And answering what collectors send?
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