Alone I sit upon my throne, alone I eat my meals. <br />The meat I have, the clothes I wear, the ring I bare reveals. <br />None in the land has such as I; none held in such regard. <br />Yet none I meet in daily walk can comprehend how hard. <br /> <br />I do recall, oh yes, the days where more like them I was. <br />We frolicked daily, friends and I, caring not but for to pause, <br />And watch the clouds and feel the sun and wait for each new day. <br />But now these thoughts…they matter not. Such times have passed away. <br /> <br />Each day is now a scripted scene, wherein I play my part. <br />I glitter when I walk; I flutter when I speak, so as to win the heart, <br />And stand as he who all look to and state, “wish I were him”. <br />Ha! Such a wish, and to what end…empty heart dressed imperially slim. <br /> <br />In death, come morn, they’ll find me here. In shock they’ll question why, <br />The man who had the lion’s share would ever want to die. <br />No answer can I offer, no…none that can suffice. <br />Hold only dear, the ones you love. A dying man’s advice. <br /> <br /> Signed: Richard Cory <br /> <br />Written By Jeff Bresee <br />Inspired by the Poem: Richard Cory<br /><br />Jeff Bresee<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-final-note/
