He wouldn’t be me
His face grey, fingernails filled up with muck
He sits outside the store change filling his cup
“Change that’s ironic,” I say with a smirk
“Why don’t you change your clothes and go find some work”
“I’ve made only great choices to be in this position
I’ve made careful, and cautious, and chary decisions
I’m a product of hard work and all my ambition
There is no excuse to be in his condition
If I do know one thing, it’s this, I guarantee
I couldn’t be him and he couldn’t be me”
I continue to stroll on my way to the office
when I’m met with a tray of boiling hot coffee
“Oh my god, sir, how can I say sorry”
I look up and here’s what I say to the body
“You idiot, nitwit, no brain having nothing
Thank you for helping this country become what it’s becoming
You’re not fit to see, or breathe, or talk
You shouldn’t feel glee, a day that you walk
No one will cry on the day you die I decree
Cause no one will care when nothing ceases to be
If I do know one thing, it’s this, I guarantee
I couldn’t be him and he couldn’t be me”
His desk is 2 sizes bigger than anyone else in the office
Every pencil and paper has its place, his space is just flawless
He likes work so much, it’s where he’s obeyed
He likes work so much because at home he’s afraid
Not of the dark, or the ghosts that may roam
He’s afraid of his home cause at home he’s alone
When he’s at work atop his pristine mirror tower
He looks at the street scowling a scowl of scowls
“Lazy, low-life, leeching, lackeys
Pea-brained, putrid, pedestrian, filth
I hate them I hate them with all that I am
I hate them more than they could possibly understand”
Maybe it’s true they couldn’t be him in his throne
But what is a throne when at home you’re alone