P is for Profit

Christmas landed badly last year
And this is when I dread it.
I don’t get paid ’til the end of the month,
So everything went on credit.

Not getting paid ’til four weeks have passed,
Brings many a worry and woe.
I hold my breath at the start of the month.
Crossing my fingers and toes.

If something occurs that is out of the norm.
I go visit rich Uncle Debtor.
I hold out my bowl to borrow some more.
Surely this life could be better.

©CMA 2020

The Poetician