The Parking Meter Poem by Theorem The Truth Serum

In order to breathe,
You gotta pay the parking meter
before you leave.
Your life is the sum
of your money spent
and where it all went.
A lot can be seen about you
based on this too.
Did you live the material life?
Was everything alright?
Did you spend your money
on compressed cylinders
hoping that it would make
it all go away?
It never really went away,
did it?
In the end you still had
to live with it every day.
How does each individual feel
when you reach that time when
you can't pay the meter anymore?
Not physically nor mentally, how does
one feel in their last years, months, weeks, and days
when the tow truck comes to tow your corpse away?
Was it all worth it in the end?