When I was born I should have asked

“how much will my final bill be?”

Those should’ve been my first words

A cost appraisal for things like:

Opportunity

Love

Joy

Food

Equality

An estimated amount printed on each white diaper and warm bottle

It would’ve allowed me to pick three without wasting time on the others

Like if it was, a carefully budgeted grocery list or team life’s hard salary cap

The goal would have been to only allot time for a selected combination

Avoiding inflated interest rates, then keeping the bill collectors away

Depression Inc., Sadness Corp., and Disappointment Trust

Their constant calls, letters and text have filed my phone

There is now no silence or room that could hide me from them

Looking back, my name or favorite color could have waited

Instead a principal has been nurtured because I can not pay

They’ve registered me for all five; promised they’re achievable

but each day I draw closer to declaring moral bankruptcy

Making it easier to end up with nothing again

By Amaury