For the Modern Age

If this is the modern age
And all the rage and hunger
To consume consumes you
Think of me.
I can't live for real
Cos I'm waiting for the bills to come in
And wondering where the money'll come from
To pay the price of peace.
And if this is my masterpiece,
It doesn't pay the bills
It just kills the pain for a while
Of having to smile and draw breath
Whilst counting down the days till death -
Like the morphene that she needed
As she was dying.
A part of me has never stopped crying.
So I'm no slave to rules of rhyme and rhythm
These poems are just my moments
I just live them.
If this is the modern age,
I do not want it.