I have no idea what I'm doing...


I always had this idea,
That I wasn’t,
The materialistic type.

You know the ones,
I’m talking about,
They have to have,
The newest style,
Of everything,
For their home,
Their wardrobe,
And even their,
Has to be,
Top notch.

I often shop,
At secondhand stores,
And love it,
And with that,
I thought,
I was doing great.

But lately,
I’ve been doing an inventory,
Of all the things I have,
Swarming around,
My house,
And it’s a lot.

Whenever I had a day off,
With my husband,
And he asked,
What I wanted to do,
It always involved,
Some kind of shopping.

And when I look around,
I have an expensive lap-top,
And even an iPad,

Turns out,
I’m more materialistic,
Then I realized,
And lately,
I have this feeling,
That I don’t really need,
So much.

My closet is stuffed,
With clothes,
Not even to mention,
With shoes,
But is that,
What it’s all about?

Those clothes,
Keep tumbling down,
Because I have to many,
Stacked on a shell,
And the shoes are mostly,
Because I always wear,
The same pairs,
What’s the point?

How did I get,
So attached,
To all those things,
That all take,
A piece of my soul,
And my time.

Because all those clothes,
Need to be washed,
And the shoes,
Just gather dust,
That I have to get rid off.

When my husband recently,
Asked me,
What I wanted,
For Christmas,
I could honestly say,

He looked at me,
In total surprise,
Because if he would have tried that,
A year ago,
I probably,
Would have killed him,

But now,
I realize,
That I don’t need,

I’m happy,
I feel good,
And centered,
So if I could ask,
For anything,
It’s just,
That it can stay that way,
Because it’s the best feeling,
In the world,
Way better,
Than a pair of shoes,
Or a new sweater.

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