A man wore silk designer suits Rolex on his wrist His shoes were made in Italy Had trillions in his fist
He had the perfect trophy wife Kids in private schools Drove Bentleys and Mercedes He was no one's fool
He had mansions worldwide Shopped Paris on the Rue His address was a penthouse On 5th Avenue
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There was a man without a dime Who lived upon a grate Where warm air from the subway Could share in his "estate"
He wore the rags which he had found In shelters on the way He sat and watched the rich man Who walked by that day
His groaning and his mumbling Annoyed the wealthy man Who took care to walk around him As he went about his plans
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The rich man died a hero His widow & kids drew hence His many friends came round about They spared no expense
The poor begger had no one Had no money saved He was thrown on a dungheap They call a "pauper's grave"
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The rich man had been lavish He'd fared well every day But he was a corporate mobster So he had hell to pay
The poor man was redeemed of God That is why he lost his job He wouldn't serve up to the mob And so his end was like a sob
He thanked God with his last breath With grace endured ignoble death
But it had no strength to sting The angels bore him on their wings
Eternity in everything
So which was the human being Who had greatest gain? This is an age old story But the fact remains
The rich man saw the poor one Again after his death In heaven... joyous... SINGING!
While He could not draw breath!
SoulSurvivor (C) 8/17/2016
This poem needs work. It's late and I felt like writing. Any suggestions would be appreciated!
I fully intend to make this a late-nighter... I wanted to stay up and read. But my eyelids are getting so heavy. I'll have to get up and read tomorrow morning early. Can't keep my eyes open :(