Crust…

If all of this was better than before
I need to sleep I need to do my chores
Apathy besets me to the core
When happiness is rarely at the door

I love to feel adored I was before
It seems my dreams are readily ignored
If all of this had something new in store
Now some of this will bring me to explore

My means are weak I speak I leave the floor
Where once I’d sleep and would for ever more
My words are cheap I’d creep into a store
And counterfeit the funds as I were poor

But youth is thus no plus unless you score
An have no crust just dust no ways assure

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