What would I want if I wanted for naught,
can ever the wanting cease?
Sailing aboard the treasures I hoard,
will ever I anchor in peace?
Surrounded by stuff, but never enough,
an endless hunting to gather.
Racing with clocks to check off a box,
but what would I really rather?
Competing with friends, the game never ends,
always one-upping the score.
Prioritize greed, put wants before need,
and tally up bundles of more.
There’s no room for love when push becomes shove,
a grasping disease of the heart.
Loneliness mounts while keeping accounts,
and winning means playing apart.
What’s left to get if I win every bet,
with no more raises to call?
Who foots the bill when nothing can fill
the hollow of having it all?
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