Money - The Evil

Everybody, as grew up, starts brooding
over choosing from the ways
of earning money.
Some say, business is sacrifice
of mental comfort and peace; others
resent joining service, as they
hate being kept record of on muster, and
working on others' time( ! )
Laborers have their pains
of slavish life.
Professionals, I see, never boasting
healthfully of themselves.
In the heart, nobody is happy
with any of the tasks, I dare say!
Why all strive to earn money, then.
How helpless, oh dammit!
the men have grown vis-a-vis money!
Seems as childhood ends, happiness ceases,
life ends; and our corpses toil
till Sixty, or a little more.
Why anybody tries not
to reform the evil; why money,
the devil, is being worshiped as the God!
Why so wretched a life?!
I often dream being a child.
And it's all happiness...
Happiness, also in tumbling down
from the rock and getting here-and-there
little wounds, and a couple of scars
on forehead...