Goldrush

GOLDRUSH After the gold rush, The man now holds his cheek in his palm Sitting on a stone near the building sand Burning in the hot sun of this world. Wishing he had another chance But all is gone, he had it, he wasted it. Money was falling like leaves, his was only to pick Never saved he let it leak, He was strong like an eagle’s beak Could work seven days a week he wasn’t weak. Now he regrets why this had to be He tries to fid the solution in the drink Deceived by the solace he thinks it brings. Day and night he sings Of lost glory and praising Imaginary kings. Stress has eaten into him Brought him sickness and fatigue But this’s left of his greed. Even though he had six stomachs to feed His, his wife’s and four kids He had to take the bid…….as he tries to climb, These so unsteady steps of the social ladder.