RIP MCA (Taken with instagram)
Lotto inspired
Greed
I sit here at this lonely office,
At this mahogany desk, as cold as ice.
Many say I’m a great success,
But I feel I am a great depress.
Billions of dollars in my bank account,
But true happiness cannot be bought with this amount.
For it’s my heart I need to nurse,
Because this money is a curse.
Someone to love and hold me tight,
For those times I wake up in the night.
But it’s too late for a guy like me,
Washed up, decrepit, and eighty three.
I know I will die alone,
For all that will be left of me is this poem.
