‘All your life you toiled,
You scurried, fought, bit and clawed,
Scrambled over all hurdles,
Not stopping for a glimpse for fear of being spoiled,
And now,
In the large empire of joys you built,
You sit atop your tower of glass,
In an empty hall,
On a throne of cold hard stone,
Dare I ask, your majesty, are you happy?’
I appreciate the cynical critique of materialism.
LikeLiked by 1 person