suits me to say

I look over the papers and voice my admiration of the idea
Then I see the list of names, and admiration turns
To what a shame….

Execution, ensures the executioner…nothing more…

I hear upon the new age wireless
That a sportsman is slain of his profession
Somewhere about the thirties…

And I smile and say
That despite never having the skill for it…

Now I have the greater excuse…
Of not having to attempt a start…

For I’m just shy of five years off retirement…

To frail for the field…
Suits me to say…

I take another look at the funds I have amassed…
Still the same…
Still too much…

Because the real poverty is that they make me rich
With nothing to part with it for and from…