My auntie was a millionaire and left it all to me.
For sure it was a windfall, but windfalls don’t come free.
With money money everywhere, I’ve not a drop to spend.
The tax men took so much of it, I thought they’d never end.
Then friends all asked me for a loan and how could I say no?
My brother’s operation increased the money flow.
My doggies needed flea baths. My kitty needed spaying.
My neighbor asked me for a loan. His fruit trees needed spraying.
My friendly local banker called me on the phone.
Not to ask for a deposit, but to ask me for a loan!
The plastic surgeon of my wife just put me on his dockets
which meant a lift for me, of course, but simply of the pockets.
Now my kids all want new cars. My aunties prefer rings.
All of those that I hold dear now simply want new things.
When I try to talk to them, my words escape their ears.
They only want to talk about their loans now in arrears.
So when you ask me what I spend my million bucks on, friend,
my answer only takes one word, repeated end-to-end.
I lend and lend and lend and lend and lend and lend and lend.
This is a rewrite of a poem written three years ago.The prompt today was inheritance.