The Cost of Inflation
In an age of abundance
When every thing and thought
Is at our fingertip
What is left to discover?
As we expand and consume it all
On the back of a collective soul
What is the cost of this instant gratification
To a life once lived in full?
Hollow experience, chewed and digested
By every other
‘Til all that’s left of the true is crumbs
Only a hungry mouse in the night could find.
12/31/24
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