Until, of Course, I Think of You

When I am taxed beyond my wealth
Of very finite mental health
Exemption seems long overdue
Until, of course, I think of you.

My vigor dims and face grows pale
When countless bills comprise the mail
These times, my fortunes seem so few
Until, of course, I think of you.

Insomnia crawls into bed
Embracing me with arms of lead
Her cold advance I can't eschew
Until, of course, I think of you.

Frustration cuts into my lane
While I'm en route to work again
I curse the slow construction crew
Until, of course, I think of you.

My hair grows thin, my body creaks
The days cascade into the weeks
I fear my life may soon be through
Until, of course, I think of you.