Ben Burton Poet Rhyme

Poverty To Royalty

© Ben Burton 2-8-2015

When sunrise broke, expected clouds
Were nowhere to be seen
Yet, rain was falling in the crowd
Halfway to Beale Street

Across the well-kept, mourning lawn
Inside the noted gates
A million tears for every song
Sprang forth to venerate

The kid who crossed a hundred miles
To reach that flaming star
Gave Cadillacs to catch a smile
Still rode the bumper cars

I sang my way on up the line
And reached the mansion's door
With him inside I knew I'd cry
Returning to the hordes

I cried, anyway

It's rare indeed when poverty
The kind that tests the soul
Gives birth to future royalty
The King of rock and roll

Well, he's gone, gone, gone
Yes, he's gone, gone, gone
In his Graceland home
One last time
Though we still feel love
Sad what he'd become
But despite those drugs
He'll always shine

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