Would I were a profit monger,
Buying cheap, and selling dear,
Groceries, or something stronger,
Toys, or pipes, or sporting gear,
Wrong, maybe, but ain't it wronger
That I should be stranded here,
While my upper lip grow longer,
Month by month, and year by year?
A S.s.t.'s Lament
Joseph Furphy
(1)
Poem topics: dear, wrong, gear, cheap, year, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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