The wind whips through the beaten woods and
does not earn a dime.
The stars have worked without a wage since
the start of time.
The bears, they feast until they plump,
yet their portfolios are lean.
The fish do not charge different rates
depending on the stream.
It is Us, only Us, or perhaps rather We,
who dare to print a paltry price
on the pulp of a tree.

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