Lost man

He lit his cigars with burning bills,
after his servants made him his breakfast,
while he watched through the window the rain falling fast,
a wealthy man indeed he became,
although his mind was not the same,
the war tore his mind,
that was the only thing he remind.

He had money but nobody that loved him,
in the end he tied a rope around his neck,
and was always remembered as a wreck.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.


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