Doors open readily, I enter with nods
To familiar strangers holding styrofoam cups
Carrying out, or having just finished
Ensuring the coffers are completely paid up
What isn't worthily given in life
Or even deserved depending on state
Is inevitably bestowed by the final chapter
Even if from the last page it emanates
Why it is due, and for what it is owed
If never required of the sleeping forlorn?
It is we who claim debt, dutifully laying out
For we all have never asked to be born
Standing as a realtor overlooking a house
That has been lavishly restored for no sale
The worth removed, the equity gone
Left to the heirs, the bale
Obligation complete, respect duly paid
From the account of the commonwealth
The doors swing back, I nod with a smile
At the pittance I kept for myself
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