Pockets Full, Heart Empty

Last night I raised my glass, a toast to the sky,

bonus in hand, but the joy felt awry.

I bought rounds for friends, felt the laughter slide past,

each clink of the glass was a shadow, a cast.

Crisp paper crumples, stained by spilled cheer,

a weight in my pocket, but my soul’s still unclear.

What worth is this currency, when joy’s on the run,

a cycle of spending that leaves me undone?

In the glow of the bar, the warmth dissipates,

a night filled with promise that emptiness weighs.