Paper Money Poem by Kenneth Umunna

Like bread it is; not bread it is
But used much more than bread
Must be in hand for bread to come
Or else no bread can come

Like bread it is; not bread it is
In use from time in memorial
No substitute can erase
That we all seem to go gaga still
That it stands all by itself

Like bread it is; not bread it is
And still can never be
A thing we see all day at least.
That one may do without some bread
But touches some paper still