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Though an atheist..
please oh lord brace and fix me with monetary salvation

After umpteen times being swindled
reducing me to abject poverty
psyche of mine
broke into a bajillion little pieces
much like Humpty Dumpty
grim outlook spells
forlorn and foregone conclusion,
thus I beseech
all knowing omniscient creator
to rescue me
from the pitfalls of eternal damnation,
where pendulum wildly swings
in one direction of doom
sabotaging sanity and solvency
wreaking havoc analogous
to kamikaze missionaries
intent on suicide missions
blasting dystopian fiery hellhole
loosing tenuous grip upon
ramparts of mental stability
maligning foolhardy behavior
guaranteeing surefire wreckage
abominable demons hellbent
to annihilate with brutal devastation
cents and sensibility
blitzkrieg makes mincemeat
feast for grim reaper
cue apropos soundtrack
where grateful dead
cavort with calamity, jollity
and rapacity of a Robinhood run amuck
robbing the poor
to enrich the gluttonous plutocrats
impossible mission to seize the day
when nary a handy dandy blue's clue extant
resigning yours truly 
to live in a bleak house
imprisoning prodigal son
witnessing him spinning out
the days of his life as the world turns
reviling himself while flagellating
suppressing anguished cries of tortured soul
accepting deserved punishment
sentenced to penile solitude
where cri de coeur falls on deaf ears
after he repeatedly though unwittingly
committed fraud against himself
depleting meager monetary resources
leaving bone dry balance
whereby corpse dangles lifelessly
come take a swing at body electric
left to hang for all posterity
as grim example
against being blindly inquisitive
indiscriminately clicking
arbitrary tabs on cellphone
and adversely exploiting
deliverance from the poor house
abandoned by the wife
for countless transgressions
less so of amorous infidelity
(although that too a factor
in meted out comeuppance)
alone in an emotional wilderness
he whiles away pitiful existence
growing old and feeble minded
housed within unit b44
not longer grooving to bliss
merely marking time
upon grime encrusted floor
a multipurpose space
doubling up as sleeping quarters
and evacuation of bodily waste
no longer caring
about keeping up appearances
cause nobody cares to visit
once upon a time fool on the hill
long forgotten from messengers of hope
thus consigned to an anonymous death
subsequently cremated
with ashes scattered to the four winds.
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