There was once a man who had a brilliant mind,
Innovative and clever, they say he was one of a kind;
But in living his life he was not very smart,
For he distanced himself from those closest to his heart.
He had no time for his wife, for work was all he did;
And though he was a compassionate man, they say,
He screamed and shouted at his young kids,
When asked by them if he would like to play.
Gradually, he built his empire of gold,
Making “friendships” for mutual gain;
And he lost touch with friends of old,
Those, who had walked with him in the rain.
And slowly, he climbed the corporate ladder,
And got everything that he had ever wanted;
But strangely, it only made him feel sadder,
When, his impoverishing wealth, he flaunted.
His children filled their plates with their silver spoons,
And wined and dined away the days and afternoons,
And as they raced down an empty street one night,
They found the Reaper waiting in the pale moonlight.
And one day, his wife went away,
He never could understand why;
He’d given her diamonds and pearls
And everything else money could buy.
He breathed his last, one beautiful summer’s day,
When the grass glittered like emeralds in the Sun,
And as he had willed, in a golden grave he lay,
But to grieve for him, there came no one.
Dancing Tides 