Soliloquy

Can you tell me some better joke
than the one of turning old?
The one which the one-eyed bloke
for a penny to you had told?

What do you make of the folk
who shiver in the severe cold,
who have no money for a winter cloak
while you hoard Mackenna’s Gold?

Why do you rejoice when others choke
when you should’ve instead consoled?
What’s funny when dreams go up in smoke
since it wasn’t what the heavens foretold?

Why do you wish to celebrate twenty-one
years of having on this earth strolled?
Having numbered your days in the sun
what darkness there is, light has outsold.

How was that story that they spun
the one which had morals being extolled?
Is it fair to say that you have jumped the gun
when you tried to gain a mere foothold?

What’s a life if it involves pure selfish fun
and feelings which can’t be controlled?
This is a battle which seems like you’ve won
walking in the gloom with a satin blindfold.