Monday, 7 October 2019

The rise and fall of Arnold Toller

'Twas a crucial day for Arnold Toller,
The businessman with tons of cash,
When his Mercedes hit a tree -
He lost his memory and his stash.

Some cuts and bruises he's acquired
His jacket's torn; his trews are damp
Just one short day without a shave
Now he's re-branded as a tramp.

The specialist was mighty puzzled -
The loss of memory's not so rare
But no one would believe his findings
'You think I'll publish? No, I don't dare!'

Poor Arnold walks; he sits and talks
He's quite polite and combs his hair
He's competent with knife and fork
But his new quirks make people stare.

The nerves connecting brain to leg
Are re-directed to his lips
His brain believes his vocal cords
Live somewhere roundabout his hips.

Poor Arnold copes with looks and sniggers
He's not a-feared, he is no wimp
But he's unique in medicine -
Walks with a lisp, talks with a limp

 Tags: poems, pathological wealth, satire

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