Money has little to do with worth.

Fortune’s Instrument

There is a mechanism
Of cube decanted Chance,
Stamped with simple symbols
And glowing like a coal nugget
Capable of erupting
At all times.  It rests
On the table like a switch
Not turned or
An unopened door
Concealing behind its chaotic
And tumbling lock
A bridge
To a nerve
Of the universe:
Something perhaps
Older than the world,
Or just and illusion because
What force declares
Whether two dots or six or
Five will [...]

There is no such thing as an “individual”.