As I sit in my garden and think about life,
I listen to sirens, content, with no strife.
No birds in my birdbath, no water there either.
The cupboards are empty, no food on my platter.
My belly it rumbles and aches and it quakes.
Not much I can do,
As no money I make.
But my book is alight,
It’s the life of a student,
I sit here and write,
because that seems more prudent.
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