Money Is Exhausting

I’m tired of the ledger in my head,

Of tallying the costs of meat and bread.

The endless circuit, spend and yearn and strive,

For a future where the spirit can survive.

I’m tired of the wanting, stark and deep,

That steals my solace, robs me of my sleep.

The hollow ache, the ever-present need,

To plant a seed of comfort, guaranteed.

And most of all, this burden I despise,

The judging glint residing in their eyes.

I’m tired of the measure, cold and stark,

That values worth on digits in the dark.

I long for silence, a world stripped clean,

Where value blooms where inner gardens glean.

A place where spirit sings, and hearts take flight,

Released from money’s constricting, darkened night.