i did read
When there were
no million checks and greed
Not even portly
in my news feed
Those were the times
I wrote prose for my writers breed
Wrote i thousand pages
with closed eyes
Nobody guessed true stories
behind my lies
Friends bought chocolates sweets
infested with flies
I would celebrate my success
in club with guys
Alas in rough times now we live
Prose has changed to portry..
can u believe
Burn I the oil to write and rave
But earn no penny,
nothing to save
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