Mr. Big sits at his big mahogany desk
At the top of his big tower.
Mr. Small sits at his small table
In his small enclave.
Mr. Big buys what he wants
And then some.
Mr. Small buys what he needs,
But doesn’t quite make it.
Mr. Big gives in to instant gratification,
Even though it makes him empty.
Mr. Small does the same,
But thinks it would be different if he had money.
Mr. Big wants the world.
Mr. Small wants what Mr. Big has.
Their bank balances polarize sharply with time,
But their hearts are the same,
And they’re ignorant to this.

You're the best thing I never had
A wound that never scarred
A rough road that was never tarred
a missing piece that finding's hard
You're the game I never played
an event destiny delayed
the blessing for which I should have prayed
You're the reason I feel betrayed
by the bearing of my Life's campus
the vintage painting on my canvas the fear I should have conquered
the scented fruit in the orchard
a charming smile I'll always remember
bears a much coveted glow of an ember
the one reason for my ecstasy
you're an apple my eyes yearn to see
you're a dream that happened so fast
a car that cruised by raising dust
you're a home I'd gladly have
yet you're beyond my league
Like that sweet grape high on the fig
you're an art I crave yet don't deserve