Malcolm
It all comes down to you,
And a number, often forgotten,
Ever revised.
But you brought it along,
Paid for its keep, treasured it,
Almost fed it like a pet.
Sucking your hopes and breaking your
Bones.
It strayed unpaid while you
Cowed and counted.
A dollar for your dreams?
Old man, can you not afford to pay now?
I can dispel these inadequacies,
Promise a return on your investment –
The sky’s the limit, someone said,
But Death won’t forsake you in the end.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, August 27/September 15, 2019
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