The Leverage of Generosity

Is it possible to become wealthy by being generous? And I don't mean the type of generosity of I do for you because you will do for me. But true generosity...giving for the joy of giving. Are we capable as human beings of such selflessness? Is it possible to truly be generous in a capitalist nation? Is it human nature to be greedy? Is greed a bad word? How much is too much? How much is enough?
Last week a woman at my day job said to me,"Somedays I just wish I would drop dead."
This really stuck with me. I know I'm shifting gears and I hate to sound metaphysical but I've been thinking about life, money, love, family, and my own mortality lately. I've been thinking about my life lately in terms of "what do I want to accomplish while I'm here" and "how many lives can I influence" and "how can I be a better human being"

Sometimes just BEING
is hard enough
Want to live before I die.
Don't want to drop dead
A nameless faceless human being with a decaying body
Want my spirit to live on.

Don't want to be average or ordinary.
I am young
Already weary of this society of consumerism
Survival of the fittest one with the fattest pockets loaded
with lawyers, politicians , and this illusion of a nation of equality and inclusion.

My dreams are getting crushed daily in the melting pot religion of America the beautiful.
America is beautiful but when will we let our true beauty shine.
Could we exist without guns
without walls
without war
without greed
without fear
without prejudice
without hatred?

I live inside my head
Full of ideals
I deal with false utopias in the imaginary playworld in my head.
That never never land
That never-in-my-real-life-will-I-see-peace-land
That-I-hope-to-Heaven-that-someone-hears-my-prayers-land

Don't know exactly why I'm here
But choose to launch love through international airwaves
To break down invisible barriers
that guard the hardened hearts from change.
Covert silient missionary.
A peace vigilante
armed with songs
with lyrics that will
break you down

Elusive Life Purpose

Wish this life came with an instructional manual.
Keep pressing buttons.
Keep wiggling wires.
Keep keeping everything.
Listening to birds chirping,
Trying to decipher their language.
Maybe they have a clue.
What to do?
What to do when you're brand new?
When the world manufactures its own revolutions,
Do you stand on the conveyor belt called ground and
stare up at the night sky?
Light looking down from star that is Mars.
That is what they say.
Who's to say that day is day and night is night?
We gather here.
We do what we're told.
We listen but don't hear what they say.
Who are they anyway who are we anyway.
Y
M
I
Hear?