the folly of chasing
an impossible dream
drained the fellow's
limited money stream

invoices stacked high
in a towering pile
the paying killing
his lopsided smile

a snow queen sending
unending requests for powder *****
an addiction dependent
on the cash cow's stuff

the ledger outgoings
to the province of York
extracted more than a few
rashers of prime pork*

in time they'd wipe out
every shilling he had
which was an expense
of a destiny so sad

there he sat grappling
with the long years of loss
all fanciful ideas
*smothered by moss