The Numbers Came Up

The Numbers Came Up

The ticket sat forgotten in my coat,

creased from weeks of ordinary days.

I checked the numbers without hope,

habit more than faith or praise.

At first it felt like nothing changed,

the room stayed quiet, the kettle boiled.

Life did not pause to applaud me,

the moment remained unspoiled.

Then the weight of it began to land,

not joy at first, just disbelief.

Winning does not shout or sing,

it arrives dressed as relief.

I thought of debts like open wounds,

names and faces I could free.

Money became a quiet tool,

not a crown, just a key.

Fear followed close behind the luck,

whispering what this might cost.

Every gain casts a longer shadow,

every found thing knows what is lost.

I realised wealth is not the win,

time is the truer prize.

To wake without the taste of worry,

to sleep without compromise.

The numbers changed my bank account,

not the person that I am.

Winning only opens a door,

walking through is still the plan.

Note this is just another Poem lol