Excerpt 8

Through the Eye of the Lens.

Excerpt 8.

Sooner or later; you're going ask yourself. What is my worth? Easy as pie; I became a millionaire under fortry. A billion dollars by the time, I reached fifty-one. Others will manage to say; I blew all my money on the table of chance. Once on the roulette, another on craps and folded on my poker face. My father always said, feed your stomach. The rest of your day will go just fine. Money is everywhere. Your worth is better. If only your health can go the distance. Ironic as that may be to get the golden ticket. Unless dying to find out; you won't be able to spent a dime. A root of all evil is to have the most currency. You will step over twenty-thousand people. Just to make that first seven figures; become a reality-based dream come true. Pushing tin, you challenge all those who oppose you to garner a thousand folds. You're thinking is the sky is just the start; not the limit. There has to be more out there to get. What is mine is mine. You're just standing in my way to attain per capita. Not on my philosophy of worthwhile seeing a capitalist oligarchy. If feeding your soul is the ingredients of a gourmet. You can stand aside; while another cooks up a meal fit for a king. And not even leave scraps behind, for every bit is valued. Cherished like a trophy on a mantle filled with those leftovers. Crumbs add up; every cent. How you perceive happiness differs only by the size of the coffers. You carry a wallet; while I use credit and never touch the principle. Cold hard cash at hand; looks good, but I am my weight in gold. Everyone knows your filthy rich; yet the filthiest never has enough. Does not matter what governs you. Someone is always on top. While the many are finding ways to achieve their worth. Nothing is truly fair in any governed system. You simply risk to ultimately roll the dice of chances. Only to accept; no matter the consequences. Failure is not on the agenda of formalities. If so; do not look down at poverty. Henceforth, the future lies on the uncertainties. Impossible to fathom riches today, but gone tomorrow. Until then, sooner or later; you're going to ask your worth.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

We learn too late. Money is as wonderful as we believed.
"Nothing is truly fair in any governed system. You simply risk to ultimately roll the dice of chances. Only to accept; no matter the consequences. Failure is not on the agenda of formalities. If so; do not look down at poverty. Henceforth, the future lies on the uncertainties. Impossible to fathom riches today, but gone tomorrow. Until then, sooner or later; you're going to ask your worth"
I understand the above lines. If I could go back in time. I would of works less and I would of spend more time with my family. Thank you Glen for sharing the outstanding chapter.
Coyote