If I was poor, where would I be?
If I was poor, what of me would you see?
If I was poor, would I count? Really?
If I was poor, would I ever find ease?
I don’t have much, I still have thoughts and big dreams,
I imagine life becoming better, not being stuck as if being held back on a leash,
I find myself giving in, giving up, just doing, never improving,
Just moving, without heart, without soul,
I feel manufactured, as though, serving is all my life’s work,
I feel stranded, all alone, never able to express the screaming voice inside,
The me inside that would love to be, love to see, love to feel, love to experience everything that will make me feel free.
If I was rich, I would be a somebody,
If I was rich, you would see more than just me,
If I was rich, I would count, for real,
If I was rich, life would be so easy.
Being poor, I will take as a blessing
Being poor, I see me,
Being poor, I count, as I am and will be,
Being poor, life is a stark reality.
Money will not be what makes me, me,
Money will not define my personality,
Having nothing, I will keep my dignity,
Having nothing, I cannot sell my soul, unnecessarily.