Sometimes, when you are the bread-winner and family takes you for granted and they want you to do a bunch of stuff at home after a long day at work as if your whole work thing doesn’t count for nuthin’, you think things that you know not to say. And then you type them, as if that’s any different from saying it. Written for a poem-a-day challenge in 2010: a “money” poem.
I am your coin
you will suffer me in silence