At birth I wanted for nothing
As a child I yearned for naught
Then I succumbed to comparison
For years and decades I was caught
In between accumulation
Of possessions
And the desire to be free
From the black flowers of depression
My hoarding
Gave bloom to in me
So I took a fearless assessment
Of what caused decay in my core
And gathered a hard cold resentment
Of what made me less, but want more
Now when faced with desires
Or guided toward sadness and wants
I look at what burns in my fires
Deciding what nourishes and what haunts
Gene G. McLaughlin 2015
BeardedRiffRaff.Blog 