they feel the money slipping through their fingers
like sand in an hourglass, time is running out.
the rich worry most.
the poor check their food pantries for tomorrow's breakfast
they have nothing to lose and nothing to gain
they are not in this game.
many will pop a pill, the sounds of corks will resound
throughout the nation while the temperature ticks up another
hundredths of a degree.
we are almost to the tipping point but too obsessed
with the feel of money in our hands, too worried
when it slips away like sand in an hourglass.
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