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