The Club of the Unfortunate

He cleared his throat, as he raised the toast,
'To my fellow members', his sound coughed,
'I raise this toast, to the fellow unfortunate'.

The new guy smiled, shying from the prying eyes,
He knew his misfortunes, Lady luck was busy,
As his creditors played the devil's advocate to his wealth.

'We are a rare breed', the toastmaster continued,
'Our purple robes have faded to a crimson red',
'Lets welcome our new member', he raised, an applause.

His smile turned to a blush, as he squirmed to the corner,
The Cornish eyes judged his new found wealth,
The Cornish eyes judged his newly lost wealth.

'I am a deadbeat', his voice cracked as he raised his drink,
The crowd cheered him, drowning him in judgement,
'I have gambled, I am the prodigal son'.

'I have a house, half claimed by my habits',
'A life which I live for the unfortunate in me',
'And a mansion, ridden with lies', he sighed.

'Lets be grateful for the misfortunes we have',
He ended his toast speech, reclaimed his throne,
The throne of the many kings of misfortune.