“us” bank of emotions

Here I stand depositing feelings of favored emotions

Into a vault that wasn't mine

Sometimes it feels as if these emotions were quarters loaned by other people

Gathered when I was swimming in your pool of fountain wishes

A huge pot of pleasures in a poker game of misread faces

I couldn't read you

When the cards were dealt

I tried to call your bluff

Only to lose the hand

Your hands

I headed to your self owned casino to play slots

Moved on to love roulette only to lose

I lost all my earnings

thinking I had a chance of upping my chances to your wealth

Now here I stand depositing myself into my fiscal problems in order to avoid my bankruptcy

Now the only thing my wallet holds are blank pictures of faded pasts.

Greenbacks of a love lost.

Yet in this trench of fiscal problems I can't help but to feel wealthy. Wealth is subjective. My wealth comes from knowledge and my trials of becoming the greatest man. So who is anyone to call me poor. Because I am still wealthy.