Rich Boy Poem by Stephen Taylor

All was a glamor
All was a glee
There was plenty of money
As though it grew on a tree

Up at eight
Breakfast in bed
Never wanting for meat
Always well fed

Friends, there were many
Parties every night
Living for the day
The future looked bright

Then, all of a sudden
The money was no more
The party was over
I had nothing in store

But, I had never worked
What shall I do?
My resume was blank
I hadn't a clue

Only one thing to do
Clear as a bell
Put a bullet through my head
And pray there's no hell