A Popular Man Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

When it came to popularity
You were a front runner.
Numbers told of your prosperity
Among others, none was funner

You knew how to have a ball
You won the ladies’ hearts
One by one you loved them all
Your ratings went off the charts

You had four wives in succession…
There were many gals in between
Each made a temporary impression
For a moment, each was a queen

The years were bountiful
It seemed there was no end
There were pleasures to fulfill…
Wondrous joys to comprehend

Time progressed, lovers drifted…
You rented a room all alone
Then one day your soul was lifted
Your memorable life was only a loan

Who would have you now?
Arrangements had to be made
Who would make that last vow?
Who would take up the spade?

Those who loved you have a grin
It is shadowed with great sorrow
Dying embers are smoldering within
Sweet dreams; there is no tomorrow