Is to not think to do well,
Or think of how others are doing,
Unless you're interested in hell,
For, like the plant that will shrivel and die,
Should it have too many leaves to feed,
With too little nutrients in the soil,
You must balance desire with need,
And no one will do well,
Who is also looking at others,
Except, perhaps, in matters of money,
Which is not even worth the bother.
Money's on its way out,
Everyone realizes it doesn't work,
Nothing does, that turns the hard-working man,
Into some chumped-up, sad-sack jerk.
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