Bill Gates – King of Kings

Lodged between antique bricks I found
A wad of precious heat
That, yellowing, had print that spoke
Of The Times Rich List sheet.

I can’t remember Number Two,
‘Bill Gates’ was Number One,
I’d never heard of him before
But he was worth a ton.

He must have been a modest man
For all his things are gone.
His name we know and little more;
No body cast in stone

Bill Gates he is, Bill Gates he was
A saviour of their time
He won and won then died a death
And hardly past his prime

We have computers now, in tents
All running Windows ‘n’
His name I find emblazoned here
Above a list of men


The war ensures we hunt in packs
And eat what we can steal
Each stolen day has now become
A trivial ordeal.

I know which way the wind did blow
But could not tell you now,
Too cold to think, too tired to starve;
I find that helps me know

The things that are important here
Like warmth and drink and food,
These musings quiet my rushing mind
as I indulge my mood.

I think about the past’s great men;
Their tow’ring memory,
The buildings and ideas they had
And all that’s ceased to be