Auckland Poetry.com

never  thought  id  fall  in love  again

his  blooming  eyes
make  me  feel  alive
never  wanna  cry 
love  him  untill  i die

The Envy

They do not pay me well, in this café, where
I work, so I take a little food home and drink
a little wine, when I can, because all the chefs
I read about make much more money than me.

When a big shot, in the world of finance, gets
paid a million in bonus, he takes it but grumble
for in his circle, he knows no one who are paid
less then this, but many who are paid more

When I get my pension after cooking food for
fifty years, it will not be much and I know of
no one who get less than me, but plenty who
receive much more and that makes me bitter.

But it’s sweet to know that those who make
more money than me are rancorous too ‘cause
they know of many very rich people who have
much more money than they have.