Leant Over A Table
By birksy
Leant over a table, she cries, tears fall on unpaid bills, lit by light she cannot afford. Not enough just to get by anymore, have to have to best of all worlds. Hear the credit sing the blues, too late an hour for change. What’s she going to do? Please, but pleas are not enough. Our currency trumps all. Including us. Written December 12th, 2001 © on Dec 17 2001 11:49 PM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 9
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"Leant over a table,..."