Rich Heart Poor Starts by Alejandro N. Marrero 7/31/2020

There’s an excitement that builds in me and it’s a weapon or a cure
I have ideas that swirl fast about what to build and what we may endure
Everyday I get emails of opportunities to help me give and provide more
Yet, when I read the prerequisites I’m shaken, scared,
and know it’s beyond what my body can afford

Rain drops fall gently tonight and they steam on the all to warm ground
It cooled the temperature and watered the garden but everyone’s asleep already all around
I’ve got this love hate relationship with each hemisphere of my overactive brain
One wishes I was more than love without dollars
One’s glad to accept pennies for change

There’s tears in my eyes when I think of myself because I’m slightly deranged
I’m not good at coping, the unexpected or even a different kind of gain
There’s a penny that’s worth more than I am but I try my hardest in vain
It’s takes every bit of life out of me to provide the quarters for life’s transient games
I’m broken, it’s true and though my heart is kind my generosity is a smile or encouragement or just in hidden pain

There’s this flood of excitement that runs through each one of my veins
It takes over my insides and when it shows on the outside I’m deeply ashamed
I’m a facade of happiness that’s always manic, sad or wanting to give more
Yet all I can do safely is try to write and one day make it that residual score
Till, then I’m crazy, but at least with kind and gentle heart
I knew it wouldn’t be simple especially with wants and fresh starts

One thing that rings true is that I’m more than my numerous scars
Yes they run deep in most of us but it’s not all that you, me or we are
I just wish my wallet was as big as my fractured and large heart
Then I wouldn’t worry so much about us as my mind shreds me apart

Rain drops fall gently on skylights and metal roofs
It’s calming for others and I guess I appreciate the sounds too
What I’d really like is to give more than what I currently make or have
Not have to worry that being broken will one day make the people I care about mad

I wish my love was a currency and came with higher green dollars
After all I’m probably the reason we’re not wearing those fancy white collars
There’s an excitement that builds in me and it’s a weapon or a fanciful cure
I’m constantly wishing that what we both build together will always endure

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