Harlequin and child

A seated harlequin and child...
Sitting, counting
Their pences trickle, mild
This woman...
Fortune counted as hope fluctures in the tide

The income falls

And stops

It has dropped

All is down

Entirety to this boy and his mother
Everything and no other
Raising money
For the one pleasure they can grasp
These bathe in honey...

-Oscuro