The Rich Man

There was a man that I once knew
As wealthy as no other,
His velvet pockets filled with gold
Worth more to him than any other.

His children sat in search of bread,
Not a penny did they see;
Hungry, frail and in the streets
searching for money to eat.

The rich man sat upon his wealth
Without a worry to his needs;
Cars, riches and homes of greed,
Not a dollar will he leave.

His children beg for help some days,
No food, they do not eat.
The man says it is good for them
For character it will bring.

This man eats in luxury
With paintings ‘round his walls;
When you ask for a penny
He retorts, “of course, with interest after all.”

No help did this man provide
For his children in dire need,
But if friends ask for helping hands,
He replied, “Of course, yes, indeed!”

His wealth is a god to him
Worth more than you or me.
The rich man sat with all his greed,
Upon his fragile dreams.

One day this man will grow old,
His children will not mourn.
For like the elephant they’ll not forget,
The torment he made them hold.

My heart aches for this man of wealth
Alone in his lonely world;
Alone with his house of gold,
Not a soul for him to scorn.

Now he lies in the world he reaped
As lonely as could be;
None of his children in his life,
For he dealt himself in greed.

The Rich Man by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse