Money Madness Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

They call it money madness,
When you have disquiet,
About the feeling of not
Having any. I think it is,
For lack of a better word,
For it is not insanity, that
Gets you, but listlessness,
Followed by hopelessness,
And their cousins shame
And failure.

Such a madness is not real,
For you walk and fear that,
The next person at the bank,
Is a thief for they are using,
The interest you should have,
Earned when you had money.
That contributed and made them,
Able to come to this place where,
The ATM has said, go home.
You have no need to be here.

It is a feeling that leaves you,
So alone, that you feel even the
Air knows your story. You walk
And hold your head up, and hope
The landlord will know, that
It is time to forgive, just once.
Only to find the lock changed,
On your door. Then you know
The landlord has money madness.
For how can all the money you
Threw, into the rent hole not
Fill up his greed? God bless
Those whose spaces, are ones
They can lock at will.