He'd always scrimped and saved
And never brought a round
He picked up every penny
That he saw lay on the ground
He never put the heating on
Instead lay in his bed
And spread his butter thinly
Then scraped it off his bread
Used tea bags adorned his washing line
Until rare visitors came
He'd use just one bag in the pot
Then hang it out again
He only owned one pair of shoes
And these were made from tyres
The scrapyard from down the lane
Was where these were acquired
No one received a present from him
Not ever, not even a card
He always told the same excuse
"I'm sorry, times are hard"
But then one day he met a man
Who'd fallen on hard times
An ex-war vet living on the streets
Who made money performing mimes
The war vet's act had touched him
In places he never knew
A feeling glowed inside of him
That grew and grew and grew
He tried his best to resist
The feelings the man had stirred
From facial expressions and movements
And the lack of any words
It made him think of all the joy
His savings to someone could bring
The amount he'd saved over the years
He could buy almost anything
He made a vow to use his wealth
To help the unfortunate and needy
He made a promise to himself
To never, again, be so greedy