nothing

i dreamt, last night, my fat holder

my purse; morning i heard the masses

calling it hope, the spring flower

to settle before my death my debt

since all i was firmly determined

this noon i opened my wallet

like tilling my ground, my garden

the summer fruits to harvest, only

to find the warden has hidden

all, leaving me with nothing

only the unpaid rising to drown

my mind, my dream, my everything

© henry victor        13.08.2017