the Gotham man

the Gotham man
He is so wealthy, perhaps the richest man
In the world, he enjoyed his lucre and sired
A dozen of male and female children
He has reached middle age, and his youth has
Gone the body, no longer as elastic as before
He has realized, as many men before him
 that
Life has a time limit
Great wealth is also power speaks; we listen when
A rich man voices his opinion he has thrown
himself into body politics, perhaps confusing
Opinions as truth
The problem is he has yet to learn the language
Of diplomacy and is on his way to acquiring
 Powerful enemies on his journey to solve
The world’s myriad problems
I believe he is a good person at heart
has to learn business and politics collide
His to be wary of hangers-on who follow him
On his road, but will leave him quickly should
disaster strike
His colossal wealth is a burden, a certain
Tiredness on his face, we can call depression.
A slight irritation in his voice; why can we not
Understand him better?