I ride my self-constructed clunky bike home to my grungy mold infested basement under my dirty little apartment building.

I sit and think about how I feel bad for these people, they are poor. They don't know about singing, dancing and telling stories. They don't know happiness. They only know one thing: money. So I am charitable toward these people, I try to give them what I can: a smile, a nod, sometimes a song, if they listen a story.

But they usually brush me off as a petty annoyance in their otherwise money infested world.

So I go back to my little apartment in my moldy basement on my clanking-clunking bike.

Let them stay by themselves in their world. Let them stay impoverished with their money. I will stick with my values and beliefs. I know what is right and what real wealth is. My people and I, we will always be happy because we are the ones who are truly rich.