The rich, the poor and the beautiful

A warm tub brimming with foam, gives you no joy in a silent home.
A song no one listens as you sing, a phone that seems too lazy to ring,
A dish no one tastes when you cook, and none to dedicate when you write a book,
It's all too boring to live such a life, too sad to have no kids, no wife.

A race you run with no one to cheer, a trophy you won is a metal mere.
A tear to soak your cheek never dries, and when you lose no one cries,
None to smile in a cheerful way, none to wish on a bright white day,
An empty life is a candle that burns, in a dark room where no one runs.

Not a thousand riches buy you a smile, nor they buy a hand to serve,
They don't buy kids to play, but toys that always lifeless lay,
Not a meal is sumptuous if none shares; never are you beautiful if no one stares,
It's all too boring to live such a life, too sad to have no kids, no wife.

Such a life you shall never enjoy to live, none to tease you none to believe.
A mass of servants who run around riches, are none but disguised stealthy witches.
A life in a mansion big yet alone, is the joy's never paid loan.
After all,
An empty life is a candle that burns, in a dark room where no one runs.