deepundergroundpoetry.com
Old Wealth
Simply lackluster
With vision fading
I croon in my arm chair
With a rounder of scotch
And lament the world
For being regal
I burrow myself
Into crude reflection
And lament the years
That escape me
I have millions
Of words
And sorrows
I'd like to one day express
I have many faults
For holding my own
I took the world by storm
In my hay day
I took loaded questions
From politicians
I've been alone
For decades
Fading away
Like wax candles
I've been told
My life
Will leave me
This mansion
These walls
These crooked pictures
Manifest eyes
In the hue of dreams
And attack my vanity
Like a haunting presence
My lies fade
Between sips
Like a disheveled heathen
Afraid of passing
My threshold
To the ears
Of another candle
And another lonely reprise
The sun comes again
To taunt me
No one calls
No one writes
Simply lackluster
With fading vision
With vision fading
I croon in my arm chair
With a rounder of scotch
And lament the world
For being regal
I burrow myself
Into crude reflection
And lament the years
That escape me
I have millions
Of words
And sorrows
I'd like to one day express
I have many faults
For holding my own
I took the world by storm
In my hay day
I took loaded questions
From politicians
I've been alone
For decades
Fading away
Like wax candles
I've been told
My life
Will leave me
This mansion
These walls
These crooked pictures
Manifest eyes
In the hue of dreams
And attack my vanity
Like a haunting presence
My lies fade
Between sips
Like a disheveled heathen
Afraid of passing
My threshold
To the ears
Of another candle
And another lonely reprise
The sun comes again
To taunt me
No one calls
No one writes
Simply lackluster
With fading vision
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