The wanderings of a rich man
Within his comfort zone,
With just a bank card in his wallet
And in his hand a phone.
His every need was pampered
As he wore an accepting smile,
He showed the world his massive wealth
Whilst strutting out his style.
Charity was a myth to him
He would not stoop to help another,
With his head held high he swanned on by
Many thought `him` they could smother.
He travelled around in glory
No problem bothered him,
He made a call and flashed his card
But then he broke a limb.
His leg encased in plaster
he struggled through a door,
His card was swiped, he lost his phone
Then he sat down with the poor.