Little earth is on the radar,
under the starry net.
Take a handful of soil,
only gauging a star’s gait.

Try once more can't do it
without the star above,
keeping a tab on the land,
on every birth and trait.

The palms of my hands
Haven't forgot your touch
Your laughter still rings
Gentle echos in my mind
The look in your eyes
When I catch you looking
I look forward to
Creating those moments again

Struggling to make ends meet
Not making enough money.
I borrow to pay--pay to borrow again.
Yet I cannot stand people that try to help me, which is ludicrous because we should feel great when one person out of an entire society of rude, disrespectful cretins chooses to offer a hand.
I'm working on it.
So when I scowl when you pay,  or when I don't have enough gas to get back to my house you fill up my tank, it is not because I am a better-than-you woman.
It is because my mother was a single mom raising three kids.  
She busted her behind making ends meet for us so we could stay in the house we grew up in.
I had no TV until I was ten,  and I think I turned out alright thus far....
My mom is my role model.
I try to reach the level she was at making ends meet,  only I never get there,  and I find myself having to rely on a system that I indeed truly hate
I want to be able to pick up the tab when I go out once in a while
It would be marvelous to be able to say, "I got this, " when in reality the only things I really have is cobwebs in my wallet.
I want to be independent and adequate to provide for myself financially
"A gentleman always pays regardless of a date, be it with a friend,  lover,  or family." You smirk.  
I scowl again,  as you again reach for the tab.
This is going to drive me crazy