March 27

At the end
The wealthy
Had no shoes
Shoeless, like the rest

At the end
Everyone will learn
That souls are not soles
Never so easily cleaned

At the end
Everyone trudges
Like workers in Metropolis
No longer awake

At the end
In the deeper sleep
Dreams are called
But no longer come

At the end
Everyone wants to avoid it
All want another chance
Too late now, too late