Too much of nothing can change a man… For the better… For all who accumulate are slaves to their accumulations For you have to house it Protect it and perhaps pay for it Again and again and again You can’t take it with you when you go And how do you exactly know If you will have anyone to hand it off to In the end And will they keep it Care for it Slave for it -As you did? When you compare the minimalist lifestyles To those of the decadent Is it really so magnificent To discover Psychologically We manipulate people Systems Biology And ourselves to Drive luxury vehicles And inhabit houses with more rooms Than we need fill With finery to impress others Who could positively At sheer will Not give 2 fucks About you or me Or our possessions To feel that much taller In our smaller minds Working numerous hours overtime Neglecting all Who should matter Too much of nothing can change a man… For the better… Take the backpacker With nothing but a satchel upon his back Who trades accumulation for experience Because in the end Will what you have even matter When you thrive on the pattern Of remembering your existence As the things you did How you lived What and who you saw and met Along the way (Who looks back to ponder all the accumulation They collected over their lifetime) Are the diamonds more beautiful Than the Egyptian sunset Or the rushing waves on the beaches of Malawi But you’d have fortune instead of adventure And wonder why your mind ventures To make the statement “Too much of nothing can change a man…†Because you will most assuredly Reference the title line in the end…