His mouth spews shallow stories.
Facts and figures roll off his tongue;
The fact that he reigns in all his glory,
And the figures he makes in the business he runs.

His pockets weigh him down
As people offer to lighten his load on the street.
He turns a blind eye, and continues through town
While they lack clothes on their back and shoes on their feet.

Arrogance radiates from his very being,
And his eyes inspect those below himself.
But they view the world from a point he’s not seeing,
So he turns the other cheek to their cries for help.
He has his suit pressed, his sleeves rolled,
And the perpetual bottle in hand.
He feels no emotion, no matter what he’s told,
As he goes on with his perfect life, head in the sand.