Zero. The age when life is simple.

Life in the moment, past and present, absent.

Time is a concept yet to be discovered,

Numbers possess no value.

Smiles and laughter fill the days,

Instead of numbers and counting.

Counting, counting, counting.

Money, weight, time, objects:

All quantified by numbers.

But what's in a number? 

How can one little number possess so much power,

How can it manipulate society's actions each day?

Rush, rush, rush

The number speaks.

Forget about the moment, think about the future,

Time will run out, money will disappear,

Number whispers repeatively.

In the other ear Present whispers,

Numbers are irrelevant,

They only cause stress,

Listen to them and you will be a mess.



This poem is about: 
Our world


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