Perhaps you will, through circumstance
have time to make important plans.
Go watch a play or read some studies
or join some ancient fuddy-duddies
to throw some darts and shoot the breeze
or bundle up to fight the freeze.
This Friday is a crucial one
the weight of roughly thirteen ton
will rest upon his collarbone
while standing guard near the old phone.
Briefly, and at the risk of bugging
while deep inside he needs a hugging,
I will reveal to you dear friend
a genuine information blend,
to give you opportunity
to see what drove him up a tree.
The story started long ago.
he had, to make a nestegg grow
invested in a fruitful scheme
to lay the groundwork for a dream.
For twenty-five slow-moving years,
while going forward, switching gears
he saved and paid each month a sum
into a fund called Sugarplum.
It was insurance and would yield
against inflation a big shield.
As this was in a foreign land,
the payout went into the hand
of one who needed to be trusted,
however, he was one who lusted
and started out within just weeks
like the old criminal who seeks
to take what he believes is his
to buy some caviar and fizz.
To make a lengthy story short
he helped himself, perhaps to snort (?)
and used the money, most of it
which put the giver in deep shit.
Two years had passed when things were found,
the funds were meant Down Under bound,
he had, due to some hungry times
been forced to steal so many dimes
put food, he says upon his table…..
it helped them eat, and did enable
to purchase a new four-wheel-drive
and Paris fashion for the wife.
‘I am so sorry’, came the mail,
he did admit the sordid tale
and promised speedy restitution
and thus be spared state prosecution.
The story later REALLY changed,
one thinks perhaps he is deranged.
He told the court through his adviser
about the relative, a miser
who’d saved some money for old age,
but then decided to engage
in giving gifts, not to his mother
but to his old and starving brother.
He had, meanwhile, so did his wife
lived comfortably in their life.
Two incomes made the bankers glad
the house was paid for and the lad
as was his sister had long flown
the coop and both lived on their own.
So, said the fellow, he’d been given,
through age-old guilt feelings driven,
half of the money as a gift
which gave him a tremendous lift.
The reason was that through the deed
of the escape there was a need
to make up for the years of shame,
those commies play a dirty game.
He had been banned from academics
and drifted through those Kraut polemics,
all due to HE, who’d left the land
four decades on he’d understand.
While it is flattering to see
it brings about new misery.
The will to heal the gaping hole
no longer is his stated role.
More lies were over weeks created
while far away, he sat with bated
and fearful breath, to hear good news
but all he heard now was abuse.
The legal eagles were soon hired
in eighteen months not much transpired.
This Friday is when things get real
though no one knows about the spiel.
His case is weak as well we know
will he be ill and never show?
And if, as should of course take place,
they are convicted, and the case
is all decided to bring back
the many thousands in one whack,
there is, inside his doubting mind
the thought that there is nought to find!
He cannot squeeze, nor can the judge
out of a pebble chocolate fudge,
thus this appeal to you dear friend
cross toes and fingers to the end,
perhaps the gods will have a heart
and give him back his applecart.

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