Below is the poem entitled Misery As Currency which was written by poet
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Standing strong, running wild, [beat] flying free,
I wish I could afford that kind of dream, but
What's a man with misery as his currency?
And I know I've said a great many things,
Pockets full of promises I've yet to keep.
IOUs too high to pay, don't got that kind of money
And spare change, anger, hate, always rattling in
some tin can, my piggy bank, savin' for a treat
So I'll go down to the market where they're selling fleas
And I'll buy you for my misery, yeah
I'll buy you with my misery, yeah
Trade you for my misery.
And you can be my lie of lies,
Filthy sanctuary, a rundown lullaby
Delusional, I know I am,
But what's a man with misery as his only currency??