Here I am lying,
Dishevelled and broken,
Upon the carpet of life,
Not even the waste basket,
A piece of worthless paper,
Could I find to take me,
Silent, almost expired,
Am I crushed under foot.
By the world in a hurry,
Too crazy to tend me,
Or tenderly arrange,
For my permanent care.
What have I learned,
In all of this chaos ?
My body is withered,
Stained by the coffee,
And kicked for the sport,
To disappear in the dirt.
In their haste to achieve,
The world has abused me,
Fought bitterly, sadly,
Ignoring my real worth,
Whilst seeking for self,
All they can be rewarded.
And if only they knew,
That if only they noticed,
My colours and fabric,
Displaying their royalty,
That I was a banknote,
In vanity I have fallen.
Credit where it is due,
Gordon Brown.
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