The Midas Touch
by Todd Outcalt
His office walls, littered with plaques,
Reveal the honors of his purse,
Their varied seals and signatures
A light among his artifacts.
His desk shines of mahogany,
His leather chair a lustrous hue
Announcing his plush revenue
Which he obtained through pedigree.
And yet for all his wealth and more
He guards in Swiss banks to retain,
He dreams large how he might obtain
A headline deal for his encore.
He lives each day complete, controlled,
Untouched, impoverished in gold.
Try another poem - One Percent
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