WHAT PROFIT...Written night of lottery
What profits a man to gain the whole world
Yet lose his soul.
Since you left my world has spiraled
In turmoil, out of control.
To date again or not to date at all
A blue, melancholy is unavoidable
Regrets sure I’ve got some.
With this winning lottery ticket
What pain could I erase if won?
What profit? I’ll tell you tomorrow.