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Chasing Windmills
Forever, I am pursuing,
Leading to my undoing,
Hoping for the impossible
While I hustle and jostle.
Seeking salvation
Through the art of creation
Yielding joy and elation
Hoping for the impossible
Like saving the world
Or becoming a millionaire
Or marrying a model.
But even if I had these things,
The thrill would be lost,
And all that would be left
Is a feeling of emptiness
While endlessly chasing windmills.
The Virtue of Modesty
Look in the mirror
With a conceited grin.
Admiring myself to the extent of sin.
No matter what people say,
I couldn't care less.
Because this man is a genius
Who can pass any test.
My inventions are extensions
Of my boyhood fantasies.
I am an egotist who is a self-hypnotist.
Friendly pleas for humility
Are an exercise in futility.
I am a genius on a lost odyssey
Until I discover the virtue of modesty.
On Saving
I like to wander and
squander
On restaurants, movies, books and CDs,
On computer software and music demonstration tapes
And correspondence schools and desperately needed counseling.
Soon I am my creditor's slave because I didn't learn to save.
Soon, a well-needed vacation becomes an excess too.
New clothes and shoes go to the wayside
While I sing the zero checking balance blues.
I must change my ways to find the better road to pave
As I struggle to say no when I begin to save.
I must stop indulging at the bookstore
And go to the public library even though it seems a bore.
When I no longer have nothing,
Life will no longer be so hard.
Then, I'll try to make more use of my library card.
But the credit cards that are tickets to digging my own grave
Will be cut in half as I learn to be brave.
So I will spend no more than I really can afford
And my Dad will respect me a little better,
Which will be my proud reward.
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