HEY ASNARL A.I., 50 BUCKS FELL OUT OF MY WALLET MAKE IT A POEM PLEASE THANK YOU
“Fifty Bucks Fell Out My Wallet”
by Matthew David Kammerer
Fifty bucks slipped through the seam,
Like loose change in a waking dream.
One quiet step, a careless turn,
Now gone—no trace, no cash to burn.
It fluttered down, a paper bird,
Not crying out, not making word.
Just rode the breeze like fate's small jest,
And vanished off—no time to rest.
Was it fate, or was it me?
That leather fold’s conspiracy?
A little rip, a thread undone,
And poof—my lunch, my gas, my fun.
I retraced steps with eagle eyes,
Scanned every crack beneath the skies.
The coffee shop, the corner store—
But that green ghost was there no more.
Maybe someone saw it fall,
A wind-blown gift, no strings at all.
To them, a sign, a lucky break,
To me, a small but stinging ache.
Fifty bucks—it’s not the end,
But still, it stings like losing a friend.
A lesson sewn in loss and thread:
Check your wallet, fool, instead.
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