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The Unhappiness of Being Rich
By: Marie Allen
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A young James reflects on his life.
Usual disclaimers apply.
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He sat by the clear smiling pool, all alone and thinking,
Of what he was going to do that day.
Perhaps he should go fishing? Maybe go swimming?
Naw, he wanted to go play.
He wanted to run all day in the sun,
He wanted to laugh, and have some fun.
He wanted to whisper secrets to his one best friend,
And have secrets be told to him, so as not to offend.
He wanted to go to a public school,
And be called "Dude!" or perhaps even "cool."
He wanted to be in a familiar crowd,
Or at least one where he was allowed.
He wanted a friend of whom he could trust,
He wanted a father who didn't cuss.
He wanted a mother who didn't scowl,
And he didn't want a fiancée who used growl.
In fact, he didn't want a fiancée at all,
Girls were icky, and he was always treated like a doll.
Always told what to do, and have no say,
Of what he was allowed to do that day.
His parents were gone, away for the night,
And he was free! At least, until the daylight.
Gone was she as well for the day,
Perhaps it was now the time to run away?
He sighed and curled into a little ball,
And hardly noticed the drenching rainfall.
He laid his head on his thin knees,
"Oh well," he thought against the breeze,
"At least I'll be gone next year,
"And far away from here.
"And perhaps I might even find a friend,
"Who will be there for me, and whom I can depend."
The Unhappiness of Being Rich
By: Marie Allen
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A young James reflects on his life.
Usual disclaimers apply.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He sat by the clear smiling pool, all alone and thinking,
Of what he was going to do that day.
Perhaps he should go fishing? Maybe go swimming?
Naw, he wanted to go play.
He wanted to run all day in the sun,
He wanted to laugh, and have some fun.
He wanted to whisper secrets to his one best friend,
And have secrets be told to him, so as not to offend.
He wanted to go to a public school,
And be called "Dude!" or perhaps even "cool."
He wanted to be in a familiar crowd,
Or at least one where he was allowed.
He wanted a friend of whom he could trust,
He wanted a father who didn't cuss.
He wanted a mother who didn't scowl,
And he didn't want a fiancée who used growl.
In fact, he didn't want a fiancée at all,
Girls were icky, and he was always treated like a doll.
Always told what to do, and have no say,
Of what he was allowed to do that day.
His parents were gone, away for the night,
And he was free! At least, until the daylight.
Gone was she as well for the day,
Perhaps it was now the time to run away?
He sighed and curled into a little ball,
And hardly noticed the drenching rainfall.
He laid his head on his thin knees,
"Oh well," he thought against the breeze,
"At least I'll be gone next year,
"And far away from here.
"And perhaps I might even find a friend,
"Who will be there for me, and whom I can depend."
