Donna Caldwell - Mean Old Bugger

He’s sat there yet again
Counting every penny
On his dark and dusty desk
His cash amounts to many

He has no form of heating
So his room is icy cold
He wraps around him tightly
A blanket very old

He only has one light bulb
Which he shares in every room
And instead of a vacuum cleaner
He uses a frail old broom

He drinks from his dirty mug
Tea less milk and sugar
And eats just bread and dripping
Cos he is a mean old bugger!

Donna Caldwell

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mean-old-bugger/