Saving stuff is a waste of time
It clutters the space and
Boggles the mind
Sooner or later I’ll just move it twice
Because it’s now filled with
bugs and small mice
The boxes are here and
The bags over there
I’ll soon be quite bald
from pulling my hair
Have you seen so much shit
In all of your life
It’s bound to bring nothing
But mis’ry and strife
My stuff that I’ve saved
Has made such a mess
It causes me pain
And no end of stress
The value perceived
Disappeared in a flash
It might have been better
Stuck way up my ash
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
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