The best things in life are free.
But we must climb our neighbor's tree.
Keeping up is what we do,
We never have enough to see us through.
The more we have, the more we worry.
The more we forget, the more we're sorry.
The best becomes judged by gold.
The best is lost as we grow old.
When will we return to the best things, Honey,
And lose this awful love of money?
Copyright 2002 © Ronald W. Hull
Read War's End, the Novel