MANSION

MANSION

Not a man of lavish tastes, I walk this earth content,
A happy hiker, easy stride, underneath the firmament.

My wallet gaunt, emaciated, hanging by a thread,
My bank account a suicide jumper, teetering on the edge.

My real estate portfolio reveals a run down shack,
And a car that heaves and sighs with woe,
Stalled along the railroad tracks.

But in my mind I own the throne and spend in royal fashion,
Rich in things that feed the spirit, precious things that fire my passion.

For you, my love, have made my world a tapestry of colors bright.
I sleep with you beneath the moon, you satisfy my appetite.

A feast you are to these sad eyes, these disenfranchised lips,
And merrily I follow you on joyous carnal trips.

Not a man of lavish tastes, nor a slave to foolish fashion,
I live content to be with you, my Rolls Royce and my mansion.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED