“Rotten Man’s Throne”

Been living too long in this wild, wicked world,
With matters of mayhem and black flags unfurled.
Two decades of doldrums and dark, dog days too,
Concealing confessions, I think I owe you a few.
Been waiting too long, desperate to postpone,
As I’m earning my spot on the rotten man’s Throne.

The words that I ramble and put down on paper,
With each shot of bourbon all reason will taper;
And what I write, every rhyme scheme off kilter,
Smoking every cigarette down to the filter.
Nothing to do, a true poet’s always alone,
As I’m earning my spot on the rotten man’s throne.

You see me, I've got a style all my own,
In this wicked world I've got a style to hone;
Tough to dress for success in a world on the brink,
And the people you meet will just drive you to drink.
Because this wicked world tends to bare all your bones
As I’m earning my spot on the rotten man’s throne.

Burning out my eyes staring into the sun,
After decades of doldrums too tired to run.
I will recline, relax, and refuse to respond,
I’ll ignore the wicked world until dawn has dawned;
But now, night never ends, suppose I should have known,
As I’ve been earning my spot on the rotten man’s throne.

Been living too long in this wild, wicked world,
With matters of mayhem and black flags unfurled.
Two decades of doldrums and dark dog days too,
Concealing confessions, I think I owe you a few.
Been waiting too long, desperate to postpone
As I’m earning my spot on the rotten man’s throne. “Rotten man’s Throne”

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