The Beginning Man
Too much everything is bad, not enough is a killer
The Beginning Man
A beggar man with no shoes,
Sits upon the cold stone blues,
His hands are cracked, his face is worn,
A life of loss, a spirit torn.
Once he walked with golden pride,
His pockets full, his heart open wide.
He won the lottery, the world at his feet,
But squandered riches in reckless defeat.
He drank from fountains of fleeting joy,
Bought trinkets, toys, and fleeting ploys.
The money flowed like rivers wild,
But he forgot to guard the smile.
Now he sits, a man undone,
A shadow of the life he’d spun.
No shoes to wear, no wealth to claim,
Just memories of his once bright flame.
He whispers softly to the sky,
“I had it all, but let it die.”
With nothing left but fading dreams,
He lives in silence, or so it seems.
So spare a thought if you are rich,
One day you could lose it, for life is a bitch.
Thank the lord each day you thrive
One day it could be you, begging to stay alive.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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