A POOR BARD IN DECEMBER

There's a sucker born every minute

Is a tale that P.T. Barnum 

Long ago told

Just at the minute 

You think you are in it 

To win it! 

Is usually the point 

When your grasp on victory 

Slips its hold

What we can do 

For our own personal 

Waterloo 

Some hold the view 

Is to think happy 

And peppy 

And bold!

This is quite hard 

For a poor bard in December 

For this bloke 

Without coat 

And poverty moat 

Has but one thought

That I ought 

Not get caught

Once again

Left out in the cold