Bills, bills just keep pouring in,
And I don't know where to begin.
I check my account, do I have enough?
Being responsible can be so rough.
I have to ensure they all get paid,
But there goes all the money I made.
I may need to cut back on this or that,
I guess my wallet will never be fat.
I thought I've paid them all before,
But here comes the mailman with some more.
When I'm all done, I think it's so funny,
There's too much month at the end of the money.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem