Arthur loved himself, more than life,
Itself, Could be the life of you,
He, would easily put to shelf,
For self, Mr. McKissick was rich,
With wisdom, wise beyond mention,
Some say it self-proclaimed,
Ask Arthur, to him greatness is,
Self-contained, only by the
Limitations of the human brain,
To ask of you would be vain,
To care more would be for shame,
Mr. McKissick had good intentions,
Only if those were intended to,
Advance his position, romance
A victim to flatter him, hook,
Line and sinker fishing, Arthur
Was an author of fiction,
An autobiographical depiction of
Grandiose visions, Mr. McKissick
Died at 55, took to grave great
Deeds in life, Although those
Among him heard of this greatness,
They just could not see it
As he portrayed it.