I'm (not) Rich

I forgot how rich I was. I forgot about my house, my food, my friends, my freedoms, my knowledge, my ideas, my comfort, my mind. But despite recalling all this, none of it seems to matter. Like a dead lamp I sit, with no fire that could ever ignite me. I sit on the shelf, catching dust, never changing. Nothing to change me, nothing I can do to change. Despite all my riches, I can’t find a morsel of meaning in any of them.