No interest in music or arts
He sees in black and white
Catches the eyes of the higher ups
Promotion's firmly in his sights
He quickly climbs the ladder
Of corporate greed and sin
Trampling on those who protest
Obeying urges from within
He memorises the code of conduct
And the company culture wheel
There are no rewards for slacking
Or for those who see and feel
Breaking workers of free will
Under a hot asbestos roof
"Take your hands out of your pockets,
obey the company rules"
One day he's forwarded a fundraiser
For muscular dystrophy
There's no empathy or donations
From his six figure salary
The workers pockets are being squeezed
From spiralling inflation
They're asking for a raise
To balance the work / life equation
He sees an update for the fundraiser
And he can't believe his eyes
If they didn't give so generously
They wouldn't need a rise
Faced with his own dilemma
Of rising care home costs
He euthanises his own father
Because he knows it's what he'd want
As ageing now slowly weathers him
He's finding it harder to speak
No more barking orders
His once firm handshake becoming weak
These symptoms slowly amplify
A specialist he's advised to see
He's given an ironic diagnosis
Of muscular dystrophy
The workplace holds a fundraiser
And despite his miserly traits of late
And contrary to his preconceptions
The workers all donate
He receives his specialist treatment
Gets the therapy he needs
It's the best that money can buy
But his muscles still deteriorate and seize
He's needing more care by the month
Every day and around the clock
His family move him to a care home
He's taking up time they haven't got
Severely limited in his independence
Especially after his nasty fall
Adjusting to life in care
But things ain't so bad after all
There's another war in the far east
Inflation once again begins to rocket
His adult children calculating finances
They're severely out of pocket
The rain is driving hard
When his offspring come to visit
They are steely and composed
An aura of a cost cutting audit
Dispatched efficiently and effectively
While sleeping, looking gaunt
Raising a glass to his dignified end
Because they know it's what he'd want
-
Author:
Syd (
Offline) - Published: June 6th, 2026 11:53
- Comment from author about the poem: Real wealth is love, health and friendship. These people are poor.
- Category: Short story
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, sorenbarrett, Teddy.15, peto
Offline)
Comments4
Yes, no health and money aint worth didly squat, except to others.
Some may say you reap what you sow, and so it seems.
Do taxmen go to heaven, I wonder.
Hi Paul, that's a good observation and a good question.
Thanks for stopping by and commenting. Much appreciated.
-Syd
A stark and all too real poem of relationships, values and payback. Well written in rhyme and good flow and a fave
Thank you so much Sorenbarret.
Much appreciated - Syd
You are most welcome Syd
I was born poor and I never ever thought for one single minute that society or family owed me something, I am where I am today because my fingers and feet have bled to get me here and when I mean here is in a modest home and a job I really hate due to Bullies but I do it because I have to pay for my bread like everyone else apart from the royals and the politicians lol. Oh Syd sorry to turn this into me. 🤣 Love your work, this one is full of soul and sadly true of our reality. 🌹
No problem at all Shirley. I always appreciate your comments and feedback. I might private message you a poem actually because I'm in two minds whether to publish it or not. It would be good to get a second opinion.
Cheers.
- Syd xo
I was hoping half way through he would get what he deserved
An epic syd
Superb
Hi Peto, I did consider the workers snubbing his fundraiser but I decided to go with the workers all raising the money regardless because they're better people than him. I suppose him raising his kids the same way is what really got him in the end.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
- Syd 🍄
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