You tell the tale of your perfect life
But you can't even undress your wife
Or spend a weekend with your kids
And visit your parents that you didn't miss.

You spread your arms to boast your wealth
But you didn't even mind your health
All those luxuries to feed your hungry ego
Can't fill you up and every night you bellow.

You act like a king in your tiny office
But you're just a parrot caged in your petty worries
In a cramped up square of your own limits
A boring building of dancing digits.

You spend the night with your circle of friends
But they don't really appreciate your presence
Wrapped inside your own bubble of vanity
A suffocating sphere nobody wishes to be.

You claim to be a man of godly proportions
But you're a sad case that needs divine intervention
Your life is certainly a rare work of art
But Leonardo da Vinci would tear you apart.