Monday, July 15th, 2013
Rand
As I fold and un-wrinkle this golden green paper
I think of its value
How many have died for it
Cry for it
Some lie for it
Away from my home
It does not hold the same meaning
These foreign symbols and signs
Represent different amounts
Though I know what they are worth
It’s not the same
To me right now
At this moment
They are only paper
Pieces of colored paper
And circular pieces of metal
Its means nothing
Though to some it is worth everything
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