Maria's Sunday Allegory Of Time

At the young age of twenty-one
her first million she made
investing in clap-on flash lights;
sold them to inhabitants of Plato's Cave.
Delighted, they were and happy
with the performance of their newfound toy.
When Plato, at last, had Sisyphus remove the stone
blocking the Cave's exit,
in they stayed, choosing low voltage
to the blinding sun light.
Some, still, remain, still, making choices
and adorning the Cave's walls with mirrors.
They stand, they clap, they admire their ever pleasing posture...
 
The same product
the next and last ten million $ brought her
a few months later.
Black Friday and all her stock was gone in minutes
to an onslaught of anguished shoppers
desperate to illuminate their souls' darkest corners.  
The incident was never mentioned by the press
and history books, totally, ignored it...
But, any child who sat on a grandparent's lap
will tell you: "It was the Saint Valentine's Clap-On Massacre!"...
 
Maria, never made another cent!
Exuberant, kind and generous
sipped and chewed every moment,
every minute, every hour of her week days,
living each day to its last drop.
Not her Sundays, though... With her Sundays she was very frugal.
Didn't use all the Sundays' hours.
Each Sunday she would save a few and keep them in a safe.  
In twenty years she was out of funds  
and in with a wealth of hours crumpled up in their place...
This Saturday evening, takes them out of the safe
and off to sleep, early, she goes
anticipating a really long Sunday...