My Wallet

My wallet weighs like soft sand on a beach.
I feel the soft material tingling in my hands.
If it were annihilated, destroyed or vanished into thin air,
My mind would be filled with anger or rage.
My wallet is priceless, more valuable than gemstones or crystals,
Or both combined.
I have been through many experiences with my priceless wallet.
Nothing has changed, the appearance, the inside,
Nor the scent that fills the air.
My eyes stood wide open, not backing away,
Seeing the beauty filling my eyes.
Tears were struggling to come out.
I begged my mum like a slave begging to commit suicide,
“Buy it, buy it!” I say, and when she gave the money,
I could not thank her more than I ever did before,
I felt awesome.