The other day I discovered an antiquated rhyming dictionary that I've had since college. Brought me back to some old poetry, too, including this one that I discovered in a file. It's an old poem, but quite timely for many of the contemporary conversations I overhear. Good thing I wrote this one when I was just a newlywed, broke, and starving. The philosophy has served me well through the years.
When It's Time to Pay the Bill
There are many who fly
Through the month of July
Taking in every rapture and thrill
Without stopping to think
Of the possible link
Between the high cost and the bill.
And others live plush
In their myopic rush
To fly to the top of the hill
Without sober light
That there may come a night
When the charge catches up to the bill.
There are those who go far
On fine caviar
And the choisest of cuts for their fill,
But there then comes a day
When they, too, have to pay.
And that's when they get the big bill.
And some will take loan
To buy a big home
And will live like a king until
The bank comes to call
And they then lose it all
When there's no way to mortgage the bill.
Yes, the morals run deep
For the many who keep
Saying, "Charge it" and "Live for the thrill."
As time always dooms
Those living on fumes
When it's time to pay the bill.
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