The expired spends not
And cares not of spending
The expired, like dead wood, feels not
And cares not if it is burnt
None can make it angry or sad
If it gets naked, its countenance changes not
We will all expire
And will all be obedient to all
So why the struggle?
Why the pain?
Why the waste of time and troubles?
Money is paper
Paper without soul
Paper whose weight gentle air can carry to loss
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015