A Poem About Paper

Tomorrow’s post will be a simple list about The-Summery-Machine; I finished my Arabic course today. So here’s a quicky. It ended up being about money because that was the conversation going in the background.

Almost forgotten in the modern age,
where information bombards us.
Once a tree and now a page,
it did define us.

Paper currency yet is made of cloth,
by it we value everything.
Like pigs eating from a trough,
we eat the only thing.

Trading necessary for social trust,
paper, cloth, and now on screens.
money based on paper rusts,
inflation deems it so,

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