Old Tightwad Poem by Francis Duggan

The old bloke he has heaps of money but with his money he is mean
And he will not spend his money on comfort and time is against him 'twould seem
It is said that he is worth millions but he counts every penny he spend
But little respect for a miser and he is one without a friend.

To hear him talk you'd swear he was a pauper one without a penny to his name
But like tis said we all are different and no two of us seem the same
Still he is a miserable old fellow and his money he cannot enjoy
And those who have known him for decades says he has been this way even as a boy.

His nickname it is old tightwad for him that does seem apt enough
A man with heaps of money yet he feels life on him is tough
Someone will spend his millions for him when he is dead and gone
And he will be forgotten and life it will go on.

Every penny to him is a prisoner when with money he has to part
It leaves him with a sad face and an ache in his heart
He may seem down to earth enough and free of self conceit
But he is a mean old fellow as mean as you'd wish to meet.