the Gotham man

the Gotham man He is so wealthy, perhaps the richest man In the world, he enjoyed his lucre and sired A dozen of male and female children He has reached middle age, and his youth has Gone the body, no longer as elastic as before He has realized, as many men before him that Life has a time limit Great wealth is also power speaks; we listen when A rich man voices his opinion he has thrown himself into body politics, perhaps confusing Opinions as truth The problem is he has yet to learn the language Of diplomacy and is on his way to acquiring Powerful enemies on his journey to solve The world’s myriad problems I believe he is a good person at heart has to learn business and politics collide His to be wary of hangers-on who follow him On his road, but will leave him quickly should disaster strike His colossal wealth is a burden, a certain Tiredness on his face, we can call depression. A slight irritation in his voice; why can we not Understand him better?