I take so little from this world,
a bread,
some spread,
little water,
some air,
that lifes me,
and dry my wares,
a little space,
to fall flat,
when I had enough of pace,
some shards to cover me,
and some books to read,
that is all I need,
why are you jealous,
of me,
dont you get even this much,
or are you worried about my billions,
which are anyway surplus....
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