I've worked for years solidifying my name in history,
I can't explain what it is to me, using my fortunes an misery.
Inscribing my name while i'm describing my pain,
Happy isn't good enough, it drives me insane!
A beautiful house, REAL ocean front property,
Just a man in his mansion, not living life properly.
Working hard everyday not acknowledging prophecies,
Of making "Jack a dull boy" which is not wat i sought to be.
I wanted a family, maybe a dog; a faithful wife and a son,
I needed a father growing up
so my whole life I've dreamed to BE one!
Instead i ignored women for business opportunities
as smiles came few to me less women were choosing me.
Deciding that my novels were more important than matrimony
left me growing old alone, with marbel counter tops an Bologna.
Looking back at my choices I regret neglecting love,
Giving up a happy home for an empty castle an Persian rugs.
This "legacy" I was creating is just material and fictitious,
A life long fantasy full of missed chances and lost wishes.
"Pity me" thoughts in my brain that are harder to get rid of than vermin,
Because the worst thing about life's lessons, is you die once you learn em.
Slowly I realized that i threw away a pearl an used the clam to shine,
While it all plays out like a pantomime.
Everything I've built with these hands of mine,
Will be washed away in the sands of time.
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