When I look around at all that I own
                           It is not much,
I make the most of what I have,
                   Use it, make it stretch.

Look at the art that covers my walls
Or the furniture in my living room
                It really isn't worth much
                In the economy of the world.

                      A few cents for paper
           A couple dollars for some pastels
And I have the richest painting
I could ever afford.

                         An old chair
                       A used blanket
Makes the most exquisite furnishings
I'll probably ever own.

All that I have are shattered pieces
                Of others lives cast aside
Because it has suddenly
             Become worthless in being broken.

My life is filled
           With the things that have become
                  Too burdenous for others,
And all it is a blessing and joy for me.

                As a grouch hordes garbage,
I'll take on your unwanted dreams,
                   All that you don't want,
                             Or won't need.

I'll take it and make it mine.
      All that reason tells you is useless, futile,
Give it up,
It'll be enough for me. 

posted by Unknown @ 9:23 PM

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