A.T.M. Machine. Poem by James Brennan

The walking ATM machine,
That's what we are
To those whom we visit in paradise
With very little
Or nothing at all.
Money grows on trees,
Well it must do
Why else would you have so much?
To afford a plane ticket
Accommodation expensive,
Sit in a restaurant and pay
High prices for food;
Why, one meal is a daily wage
And you have three!
Add to this the money spent on alcohol!
You drink and drink,
Drink and drink,
Like you need to drink the country dry
That's just what you do!
To go on excursions at a
Handsome price just for a day,
It's trueour
Land our sea is a splendour
Rich in colour, rich like you! Ha!
Well how about a tip for
Your humble hosts? maybe the price
Of just one of our beers,
Not today? You spent enough:
No? ………
You broken hobbling ATM machine!

Photo By gatis-murnieks-yonBzX_1qvE-unsplash