I was popular once in high school, which faded with the poverty of my early adult years. Somehow, I knew I would not be loved without money.
Money eventually came as did the choice of relationships. I chose poorly. However, I have since given up the illusion of love; where the truest form of freedom lies. In hindsight, against all odds, I chose well it now appears.

This poem is deep. What is that saying? The money don’t make the man. The man makes the money.
LikeLike
Cheers
LikeLiked by 1 person