There’s no solace
In being dismissed
When the loss we grieve
Becomes fatal
And love’s great cost
Offers little
But a balance regained
In our books

As their decimals feel
Ever stoic
Where riches appear
Very meager
Compared to fate’s hand
Barely measured
Or recorded on lines
Under checks

How lives once shared
Throw them back
Letting unknown joys
Return moments
Like yesterday’s goods
Worth existence
Now defined by cash
Through exchange

Of replaceable dreams
Between hearts
So easily fooled
Trading measures
For suffering vows
Truly hopeful
Until one bad day
Kills it all

Missing laughs
But needing relief
Defined while hurt
Keeps deceiving
Another real pair
Still believing
Some belongings trump
Having soul

If left with pain
Looking sharp
Since value speaks
Over meaning
Now that purity dies
Seeking profit
Forever engaged
Though divorced.

• J. Pigno