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

So learn

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

12 thoughts on “EXPIRIES

      1. I just remember this job I used to have and my boss would sometimes go out a do collections and there was this one guy who was just hovering over his check book very reluctant to actually fill out the check and hand over the money and my boss thought to himself “Good God man, it’s only money!!” That’s what I was thinking of while reading your poem this morning.


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