Wealth Forgotten

The waters running in the distance Drips echo from the cellar Pipes are rusted, walls corroded Floor boards creaking, the showers leaking So this is my home, so this is me So this is my life, this is what I'm to be

The stairs creek as I rest on them My pen scratching against the wood A paper yellow from age crowded with words Black ink smeared in spots, rips in others So this isn't how I expected it to be So when I look in the mirror, is this what I'll see?

A rotting house and a moldy fridge This wasn't what I dreamed of But for thats it's all the better This is me, not someone else This is me, this experience my wealth

-DJG That's a poem I wrote when I was thirteen. It's certainly proved true throughout my life, struggle is wealth.

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