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Final Note
Alone I sit upon this throne, alone I eat my meals.
The meat I have, the clothes I wear, the ring I bear reveals -
none in the land has such as I, none held in such regard.
Yet not a single one of them can comprehend how hard.
I do recall oh yes, the time when more like they I was.
We frolicked daily friends and I with no care but to pause,
and watch the clouds, and feel the sun, enjoying each new day.
But those are distant memories now, such times have passed away.
For each day’s now a scripted scene wherein I play my part.
I glitter when I walk, I flutter when I speak so as to win their hearts,
and stand as he who all look to and say, “wish I were him!”
Ha! Such a wish, and what end? Empty shell dressed imperially slim.
In death come morn, they’ll find me here. In shock they’ll question why
the man who had the lion’s share would ever want to die.
No answer can I offer them, no, none that will suffice.
Treasure the things you cannot buy… a dying man’s advice.
Richard Cory
Copyright ©
Jeff Bresee
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