six

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money and riches were all he saw.

gold was his heart

and king was he by law.

architecture was state of the art

but still he could not guffaw.

 

happiness was the only treasure

not in the palm of his hands. 

the world was his,

yet he craved more more more.

so he got the most,

so much,

it almost was too  much

even so he held it

till his arms were too weak.

 

his sins poured over him,

surrounding him in the rain

 

he had kept in for years.

face blank,

eyes red.

 

trying to find love.

walking the streets of foreign lands

holding foreign hands.

nothing in his pockets

but a hefty coat on one arm.

 

someone said right

 

there is no cost for an ego,

nor for humility.

which one you have,

is a choice only you know.

 

his choice was simple.

not even did he think,

maybe he was wrong,

maybe his opinions hurt,

not once.

everything he said was correct,

like he was the only one

with a whole brain

in his skinny little head.

 

ruined his family,

ruined his friends.

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