Fighting Through Doubt

A man stands, with empty hands,  

A wallet thin, like shifting sands.  

The world weighs worth in coins and gold,  

But what of strength when none’s been sold?  

They tell him, “You matter,” and yet he stares,  

At zeros mocking his deepest cares.  

“How do I matter?” he cries to the night,  

“When value is tied to what’s in plain sight?”  

Yet worth is not in what you own,  

Nor in seeds of wealth you’ve never sown.  

It’s in the fire that keeps you here,  

Fighting through doubt, through pain, through fear.  

The tears unshed, the silent screams,  

The holding fast to shattered dreams.  

A balance of zero cannot define,  

The grit within, the heart, the spine.  

For value lies in scars you bear,  

In battles fought with none aware.  

A man is more than wealth’s cruel song,  

He’s the courage to stand, to keep moving along.  

So when the numbers weigh you down,  

And worth feels lost in this harsh town,  

Know this truth, unpolished, raw:  

Your value exists, without a flaw.