Stinginess

Stinginess...is being tight,
And holding on with all your might.
Never wanting with another to share,
Or even showing...a bit that you care.

It is thinking of yourself...alone,
And never giving of your own.
Always thinking of the person...I am,
And covering your feelings in a sham.

It is looking with envy on another,
And trying...his honor to quietly smother.
It's not finding joy in the art of giving,
To get for yourself...is the aim of your living.

"You say"...let him to his own ascension,
For I have no time to give my attention.
Let the poor...stay poor, it is their way,
Don't hand them a platter or give them a tray.

For stinginess turns solid...like glue,
And it seals up the part that is you.
And as long as you breathe...to live,
You'll never...no never...have something
To give.


E.P. 1908 - 1989