We used to care, share and play fair;
You get some, I get some
But your manner of thanks, wealth did wear
That you receive no more from me
Obstacles did try to dissuade
Our friendship that was thought to be eternal
But, of being divine, wealth seem to persuade
Your lovely heart that's now coated in soot
Wealth has swept the manner of thanks
That used to be in you appreciating my gifts
And you are deaf to the noise my mouth makes
for no words mean thanks to you but currency
Glad you can give when I ask
But sad my offerings seem worthless to you
In your world the word thanks has a new task
As you use it to reject what I give
Will I ever find a friend like you again
With whom I can care, share and play fair?
For your manner of thanks, wealth did wear
That you give but receive no more from me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem