why work,
he says.
why get up at the same
time every morning
and go
to a job i don't like?
what's the point of that?
punching
the clock,
answering to a boss,
the endless hours
at the wheel
of someone else's business?
why should
i waste
my life on that?
college was hard enough,
with classes
and books,
how about you take
care of me
for another thirty
years,
and when you die, i'll
have everything that
you have?
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