Here’s my weatherproof motto:
‘Whether it is raining or sunny
I must scramble off to work
And deservingly earn my money’

The monthly cash compensation
Of my chosen vocation,
For aeons money has prevailed
As man’s most consistent motivation.

My anti-work Charter of Demands
Incorporates quite a few grievances,
But the reward of works drudgery
Enables all my conveniences.

While it does not accurately portray
What I think about who I am,
It certainly is the how and why
Of where I get to stand.

It’s my furniture, fixtures, fittings,
It’s all my designer clothes,
It’s the exorbitant medical bills
When I am indisposed.

Though I drool over it,
It does not care for me,
I’m embroiled in an affair
Of heartbreak and misery.

I have to run my house
Water-phone-gas-electricity,
While paying insurance premiums
For unforeseen calamities.

From my monthly installments
I can run but cannot hide,
For pending bills there’s only
One proven way to fight the tide.

I will accomplish nothing
By repetitive diatribe,
Without funds I’ll be dragged
‘Neath poverty’s underside.

Having spoke to the broke
Of the horror they endure,
I’ve seen why the penniless
Tend to break the law.

Scenarios of incomelessness
Leave gigantic tears in my eyes,
So I strive for a bank balance
Of gargantuan size.

Then I would never be party
To every distasteful thing
That, to my soft-centred mind,
Disillusionment brings.

I also would never
Ever have to sate
All the avoidable people
To whom I can’t relate.

While my perfect annuity solution
I tirelessly seek to find,
The price of living costs me
A lot more than my time.

Even the price of dying
Has trapped me in its net,
It’s made up of the essentials
Like whiskey and cigarettes.