Lawrie Stuart Ronton

Many A Pound

Small boy, plump and round,
How much can i get, many a pound.
This as such, would be his vow,
Everyday, his conciense didn't a bow.

Wise plump old fellow,
Don't take it over,
The required amount.
It will be game, in
under a second.

The question tongue,
Into salvation, open.
Out came a screech,
Of a dying child.

Poem Submitted: Saturday, November 3, 2007
Poem Edited: Friday, April 22, 2011

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