Neither A Lender…
I do not lend them money now, (Or very rarely, anyhow). It saves a friend. And saves a row. You’d be surprised where friendship ranks With those who think their friends are banks. There’s far more bricks than roses, thanks! By some contorted somersault It all becomes ‘your bloody fault’. It took me years to call a halt. Some think you mean, some think you shrewd, Far better that they think you rude Than suffer their ingratitude. And wise the man who will not lend, But in the dead of night will send A gift. And thus, will save a friend.
Poem Published in the following books: A Glass Half Full