Triplet

TRIPLET If you spent most of your money on beer In an effort to generate good cheer The bank manager might easily jeer He’d be looking at your balance in fear Wond’ring if the end of your spend is near Or should he give you a kick in the rear You’d might still manage to be in the clear If only you were a psychic or seer To predict black or red by end of year When you shed just a slight bit of a tear The manager’d say, “I’d still hold you dear If you take your business away from here.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . Written for, and entered in, Dr Ram’s contest TRIPLET