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Thursday, April 17

Money in Plastic.

Papier, no longer remains the way..
I buy myself a coffee each day.
No stack of greens or browns you will see
When, my wallet is giving me company.

Swipe it, strike it… its scratch proof I believe.
Bend it low or drown in the snow…
Heart to break... oh! What heartache
To do or not to … is a question within me

You’ll know as you go…
It’s only scissors and the knife that can listen to thy plight
No fire, no ice... it’s resistant - make it twice.
Its solid and strong…will live long

While we walk on… amidst the busy throng
It is this plastic piece that pulls us out of the daily drudgery
Be it a debt, loan or mortgage
A dress, a party or even a birthday cake

The grocery, a vacation or buying a company
Travel, rewards, flowing money
Tickets and bills, shopping that kills…
Almost everything with its added frills

It’s all a clean swipe of hand..
The magic wand.
Numbers and figures and solidified paper
Poor or rich they are ready to cater…

All you need is a bank account
And a conscious that lets you ‘hang it around’
It’s only when the postman comes knocking down
Oh! Just try making no sound…

Try hiding behind the sofa or the ‘maintained glee’
You will realize it’s not for eternity.
The envelope is as scary as it can be
With only some details…you might see

Your name at the top and the amount beneath
It’s all in the past, yes, the history of the month that last.
For the creditors its credit
And the unlucky wise its debit…

For me its guilt, and guilt I believe
Is sad for your soul and the spirited me
Paper they say… is the thing of the past.
Makes me wonder how long it might last

It’s not a rhyme it’s the story of my time
Are you listening? Or still under a wishing tree?

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