This is the story of two men
Both who entered this world and left it
again
Our first fellow was named William IV like his Dad
A strong name for our
tiny little lad
He was lavished from the moment of birth
With treasures
and gifts of inordinate worth
Only the finest of linens when he laid to
rest
For our young tyke, not a thing was second best
Rattle became six shooter and in turn cell phone
From infant to lad and
from lad to mostly grown
Life was truly a scrumptious ordeal
A live-in
chef cooking delicious meal
Parties and outtings and important
meetings
Limos and bell boys and preferred seatings
Life was splendidly
filled with the finer things
Only afforded by wealthy cha-chings
Our second fellow's father was named Fred, but called him James
For he
wasn't worried with suffixes after names
He was lavished with love - and a
blanket threadbare
Adorned by adoring parents with worn winter wear
He did
his fashion shopping with friends galore
At the neighborhood's ritzy
second-hand store
Not much in his life is worthy of report
So compared to
the first fellow, his verse is short
But one tragic day waw events unwind
Which forever the fabric of their
very lives entwined
The second fellow spied the first upon a rooftop
high
Ans sensed ill winds whispering "Good-bye . . ."
Frantic! Step by
step our hero raced
Finally bursting into view as the other paced
Back and
forth upon a narrow ledge
As he steadfastly contemplated its edge
And so
our savior neared! Too late!!!
For the rich man had decided his fate
He
was resolute, he would not be saved
As one final bottomless step he
braved
But our rescuer had approached to fast
His racing steps would be
his last
He neared the edge unable to stop
And teetered briefly before the
precipitous drop
Desperately he grabbed for the rail!
But sadly twice this
day he would fail
And now a rich man and a poor fellow
Are no longer
different as they lay below
And I wonder why a man of wealth
Would vlaue as worthless his very
self
Why one who could buy wahtever delighted
Would desire the light of
life nighted
While he who had nearly nothing here
Would find this fragile
life so dear.
Yes, I wonder why . . . |