Cut My Losses Poem by Uriah Hamilton

Plundered on a cold street
beneath smirking sunlight,
I met a girl, unwashed and sleep-deprived,
who absconded with my limited monetary funds
and even more limited faith in humanity.

I managed somehow to collect
a few tattered scraps of self-respect
and escape down desolate streets
winding their way like an endless maze
of bemused cops and old ladies
shuffling for survival en route to second-hand stores.

Every disaster is a call to love and prayer:
I've never met someone that wasn't in some capacity
crippled and in despair,
so I just cut my losses and smile.
One day, everything, including myself,
will simply be forgotten in the forlorn nature of eternity.