The Trade

More structured and rhyme-y than my usual work. I like the concept, though.

Time moves with equivalence
With little shifts and little clicks
To measure
Every second,
For the ledger
Of my life.

Dancing ratios obscure in design
Play with the numbers, to align
The worth
Of my assets,
The worth
Of my time.

Esoteric in appraisal rate
Still the payment satiates
The void,
Once the hours
Are spent
Then gone.

Exchanging time for memories
Though never spaced quite evenly
We get
What we pay for
So time may
Move on.

But the real gifts
Are those
We make, on
Our own.

The End

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