The Spoils of Avarice
A tattered, ragged leather bag
hides faded photos wrapped inside;
both black and white and kodachrome
reveal lost dreams once held with pride.
An older, colder man made weak,
by sojourns made so long ago,
has paid with shame a painful price
for bitter seeds he chose to sow.
Consumed by youthful avarice,
success became amoral lust
for things of want but never need;
a soulless loss of love and trust.
He cured his life in lurid greed
so strong it tore apart his soul
as truth imbued was flung aside
and grand illusions took control.
He chased the dragon of deceit
along with every reprobate
deluded by corruptions face
foresworn to conjure riches fate.
Today he stands a naked man
reflected in the full length glass
of one more sterile penthouse suite;
bath fixtures proud old polished brass.
He opens up that leather bag
to gaze upon the photos there;
a smiling girl is gazing back
with jade green eyes and skin so fair.
She wears a bridal dress of white,
her face aglow, adorned with life,
to greet a future purpose proud
this loving girl became his wife.
There standing next to his young bride
a man exudes pure confidence
to conquer all life's challenges
without the slightest reticence.
Her innocence he stole away
with no remorse for all the lies;
he watched her slide into despair
till one day in his arms she dies.
The ugliness he once concealed,
in time she knew each sordid part,
yet still he chased the dragon's bait
until, at last, he broke her heart.
Next to a picture of his bride
a small revolver lies in wait;
he picks it up and fires inside
a mind that found the truth too late.
Copyright © Tom Mcmurray | Year Posted 2010
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