Skinflint Poem by Hannington Mumo

In wild vanity your curiosity hunts
What no vulpine archer ever shot;
And pining under unrequited labor,
You'll condemn your inclement lot.

In ceaseless tilling your brow
Shall toil endlessly under sun,
Till no sweat sits on your skin;
And return with no medal won.

For your parsimonious hand
Withholds the destitute's alms;
Making poor riffraff folks curse
The sting of your stingy palms.

Kindest Heaven's warning counsel
Patient gracious amnesty supplies;
Now open those hoarding stores,
And heed the unfortunate's cries.

Copyright © Hannington Mumo | Year Posted 2022.