Beaten And Poor Poem by Randy McClave

If you had none and I had many
I still would not give you a single penny,
This is more than just a subtle hint
I will not ever give you another red cent.
If you believe that I am being mean and verbally unfit,
Then don't ever tell me that you're good for it.

If you are ever in a fickle
I would not help you by giving you a nickel,
Your fortune by me will not ever again increase
As I would not give you that needed five cent piece.
If you had swore that you would pay be back,
Upon your face, those words I would probably smack.

Though you might think my belief is a crime
I still would not give you one thin dime,
Even though you came from my loin
I would not give you that one single coin.
And I dare you to ever to question me why,
Look into your mirror, then you'll see your lie.

Once I was your proudest supporter
But, now I would not loan you one lone quarter,
I would not give you that one fourth of a dollar
Not even if you cried, pleaded, and did holler.
I always happily gave you change for your banks,
But, then you were a child and you gave me thanks.

If you urgently needed money for your till
I could not give you one solitary bill,
Never again will I give you anymore cash
I would feel less hurt, by throwing it directly in the trash.
I gave, and I gave unto you until I hadno more,
Now, because of you, I am beaten and poor.

Randy L. McClave