The Miser

The Miser

A miser is a criminal,
For each thing that he calculates,
Inside his slimy head,
Is for profit for himself,
And never for one else.

A miser most will see to this, that he a penny
Never spends, and so the fineness of his mind
Is trapped inside the mesh… strategies
To do-undo, outwit, and gently
To untie, others’ purses, on the run,
By sideways glancing at the point
When comes the time to pay,
Or getting up to take a call
When there was really none!!

He’s easy caught at playing games but other
Virtues shine good through, And you are tempted always
To restore, maintain, and then with paying up,
A combination of much dues. You try to reason
Out this flaw, in the miser friend, and carry on the burden
Of paying up again!

You wish to God there’d been a chance to straighten
Things anew, and tell the miser friend for once
That he could too, just contribute—
For this or that, but once again,
You’re charmed: his witty mind and perfect flaw,
Have plenty aptitude, to keep you and to keep his purse,
Absolutely closed and new.
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