He Who Counts His Cash

It was morning, a miserable morning
One that was over in a flash
Suddenly without any warning
He decided to count the cash.

This sent him into an instant flap
He fiddled nervously with a saucepan lid
This was definitely some sort of trap
Wondered what the outcome would be if he hid.

“Young man, come here” the Manager shouted
Something appears to be missing.
His crinkled lips was now pouting
And his throat had started hissing.

“He does not trust me” he thought
After all the things I have done for him.
He was frantically hiding the things he had bought
And envisaged the situation looking grim.

A stash of cake and jam, lemon curd and honey
Silver nice things that he liked to buy.
He was not used to handling money
So he had a day practising how to buy.

It is not his fault if he spent the lot
He thought that they had loads more.
The amount he had spent had been forgot
Well his investments were banked offshore.

He did not want to upset his ten year bond
And his thousands were doing very well.
The extra noughts of which he was fond
And his shares he did not want to sell.

He was never aware of his wealth
Obviously did not know about being poor
He never worried about money or health
But alas the Manager was now crying on the floor.

His greed was now not nice
Maybe he should come clean and reveal his stash
His greed had definitely made him pay the price
He offered just five thousand and the rest of his cash.