on being poor

here is what yeats writes:

"Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

that is lovely, no? and it's really about love. and i've got nothing to say about that. but i do have much to say on being poor at this point. i am now all settled in my new place with my new job and i make very little. very little. i've been more in debt before, but i've never really been this poor before. never have there been so few pennies coming in each month. but also, i can't remember when i've been this content.

and so while i have no love, i guess i will say to the world in general "i have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

meaning "please don't mess with me world! please please please. it's taken me a long time to get here to this place where i don't want to curl up in a ball and die, so please please, please do not mess with me anymore. if you should feel the urge, please step around me and keep on walking."