This is something that I am writing about.

This is not a political statement. This is about love and how some people don’t have the resources that they need to live comfortably although they work hard for it and at least deserve better support for conditions they live in. By working hard for it, I also mean that survival and existence can be hard work and everyone with care deserves a decent quality of life.

No one is necessarily to blame for poor quality of life but we can all help restore the balance, and especially those with the most resources… which is likely no one I know, but someone and some group of people could make a difference if they realise that they could actually enhance their own lives by doing so. 

Somehow there could be a better balance.

This poem is held together by a few rhymes and beats. Part of the idea is about imbalance and struggle. Poetic. A big reason for “the struggle” seems to be an inability or lack of desire to work together to create more balance. Some people are comfortable with disparity. Unfortunately I think that this is an unhealthy form of compulsion and/ or obsession that causes us to define our wants AS needs. The need for security is real but in some ways it is largely exaggerated and compulsive, like we need this monumental cushion, when we could surely get by wIth way less padding and more cooperation . The protection of our fortune is found with fate. Trying to eiminate the drama of fate and fool fate by storing supplies for ourselves, beyond what we could ever use, past our generations, that could be used by others that actually need it now: will bring negativity and harm our fates in ways we may not expect or understand until it is too late. Karma is real and we should work together for now. Still protect our children’s future, but by setting a good example, not by squeezing out those that supposedly don’t derserve it. Everyone deserves to earn a decent quality of life. Hard work is hard work.

Love on the other hand is underrated and often poorly defined. Love can be either a miraculous, beneficial, connecting passion or in another definition, more like a weak, frivolous and impractical form of lust or whimsical emotion.

I like the first definition and feel that love can get us through challanges and can help create balance. It seems that there could never be too much of this love, but definitely not enough.

Money doesn’t act that way. The best part of love to me is real and accurate. Money is a symbol and an unfair marker of what we deserve, based on contrived biases and a system that needs to be corrected. I am not saying that there is no room for riches or luxury, but that hard working and powerless people deserve a more reasonable level of compensation and/or support. No easy solution…

Hump day thoughts. Wrote most if this on Wednesday. It is now Thursday. So much going on. I am very close to a clean version of my new song. If I get time to record today, it could land. Looking for the right balance of the resources I have.

Maybe the prose writing edges out the poem today. Just a poem.

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There is always too much or not enough
You know what I am talking about
It goes for money
And it is really rough
It could get better without a doubt
*
Some folks can’t eat
Some folks are hoarding stuff
For some it seems like there’s no way out
We need more money
Some are just out of touch
And act like they can’t hear the rest shout
*
We realize
There is not enough love
And how could there ever be too much?
The fight for money
Is always running
We have the time
We have resources
Why does there have to be such a rush?
*
We need more money
It is not funny
It is a crime that we don’t join forces
We must work on our issues of trust
*
There is always too much
More than enough
You know what I am talking about
It goes for money
And times are always tough
It could get better without a doubt

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I am not crazy about the poem, but a few poems a week, so look out for the next one.

Hard work, love and care deserves a decent quality of life. Just saying.

☮️♥️

My dad took this picture. Loonies!