Ah no money
and the bill has come - roosting.  

I contemplate suicide,
and other deluded pains;

much rather that than
sell my art for money;

how does one even begin-
to ask for money for a gift;

from all Nature unbidding,
for Art that is Art is

Not made by you - we
forget that this is all a chance,

luck fits better - perhaps -
and yet the morrow begins,

and i ope my eyes again;
the world - Still Burning.

and my heart - full;
not if only I could figure something out for the wallet!