Lovely Problems

 Lovely Problems

I love my problems 

I made them myself 

one day I’ll solve them 

I grow them instead 

my bank is on fire 

my love is dead 

piles of books teeter

only jelly in the fridge 

I’ve got these problems 

they occupy my thoughts 

I should be thankful 

for their hours of drama 

I see them in dreams 

with faces of dead lovers 

I ask them how they’ve been 

they tell me I know all about it