A Rainy Day Poem by sylvia spencer

Once I had a money box where I saved for a rainy day
but the funny part about it, the rain never went away.
I would put money in and then take it out, that is why
my money box always suffered with a drought.
My rainy day money never grew at all because all I
wanted to do, was to go out and have a ball.
Now my sister she was a bit of a miser, that is because
she was older and can I say, so much wiser.
Every month she would empty her tin plate box then
shove all her savings in one of her socks.
Then off she went to the post office to hand in the change
just to recieve a couple of savings stamps, in exchange.
My sister would come home then stick the stamps in a
book and she would always gave me, a little cocky look.
My sister never went shopping, she was to mean to do
that, so while she was saving money; I was out buying a
new hat.As soon as I earned it I was out on the town
and nine times out of ten I was dressed in a new gown.
By the time Monday came it was always the same, I spent
all my money, as if I had thrown it down the drain.
So every Tuesday morning I would pick my money box lock
or I would search amongst my treasures to see what I could hock.
I tried so much to save for that rainy day, but it was impossible
to keep the rain at bay.


This never happened to me but it could have, or it might have
happened to you. This poem is only a story.