Wallet Full Of Ghosts
I watched numbers climb on my cracked old phone like a rocket leaving night
Small coins I bought at three a.m. turning into someone else’s light
Discord full of prophets saying “hold the line
don’t ever sell
” Charts drawing mountains while my rent sank straight to hell
Screenshots of my balance looked like freedom in a frame
Thought I’d finally beat the system at its own rigged little scam.
Started talking like an expert after one dumb lucky run
Told my friends “this is the future, banks are done
we already won
” Turned every spare dollar into digits on a chain
Let the landlord wait a week while I chased that stupid gain
I could see some sunlit future where my job was just a joke
Where I’d cash out into safety from this pixel-colored smoke.
Now I’ve got a wallet full of ghosts and a feed that won’t shut up
Everyone who swore they had the answers vanished when it bucked
I was rich in screenshots
poor in everything that counts
When the floor fell out from under me and erased those perfect amounts.
One red candle turned into fifteen while I tried to play it tough
Kept refreshing every minute
telling myself “volatility’s just rough
” Watched a year of late-night wages bleed out in an hour flat
All that “diamond hands” religion couldn’t change the simple fact
By the time I hit the sell button the bottom had no floor
Turned a small shot at survival into even less than before.
The influencers deleted half their posts and changed their handle
Now they’re selling some new miracle, same board
different tricks
All those threads about trust and “we’re in this till we die
” Turned to “do your own research” as they cashed out on the sly
Group chat full of silence where the hype once filled the room
Now it’s just a graveyard of regret and private shame.
I’ve got a wallet full of ghosts and an inbox full of spam
Projects that went radio silent after stealing what they can
I was rich in dreams and jargon
broke in my pockets and sleep
Now I’m scrolling through the ruins of a promise I couldn’t keep.
I don’t blame the math of markets
they’ve been vicious from the start
I blame the way I grabbed at hope like it was owed to my sore heart
Thought I’d shortcut all this struggle with a chart and some new slang
Skipped the part where everything that looks like magic has a fang.
Now I ride the same old bus route with my phone face down for once
Pay in coins that jingle heavy
not these phantom sums that taunt
Still get ads about “the next wave” sliding under every scroll
Little shiny baited hooks aimed at the crack inside my head.
I printed one last screenshot of the peak before it fell
Taped it to the fridge as a reminder and a private kind of hell
Not to say that I was stupid
more to mark the hunger’s size
The length that I would go to just to stop living on compromise
Next time I gamble what I can’t lose
I want it in my hand
Not floating in a system I will never understand.
I’ve got a wallet full of ghosts and a head that’s finally sore
From banging it on shiny doors that lead to the same poor floor
If money’s gonna break me
let it at least be made of weight
Not numbers on a clumsy chain I can’t eat when rent is late. One day I might buy back in with twenty bucks I can afford to miss
Treat it like a lottery ticket
not a miracle in a twist
Till then I keep my faith in work I can see and sweat I know
Let the whales and prophets circle while I climb back from below.