• Author: Unknown
• Editor: B-7413
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume 5
• Page Number:
• Date: 9 16 1916
• Tags:
• poetry

IT DOESN’T PAY

After due consideration and serious meditation On man, his evil thoughts and evil ways, I can reach but one conclusion, that is stealing’s a delusion And like other bad investments, never pays. You may rob a bank and break it, or ‘‘stick ’em up’’ and take it, But in the end you haven’t got a cent, For on women, wine, late hours, And such things that sap your powers, You will spend it and then wonder where it went. And when you’ve finished spending, To your erstwhile friend a lending You’ll find yourself in prison doing time, Then you’ll take the same old vow: Knew I then what I know now, I would never have committed any crime. With your pockets full of ‘‘kale,” While you keep out of jail. These friends had promised with you to abide. Though they swore they’d stick like glue, You now find that they’re not true Like the rose with its scent you’ve cast aside. You may get by for a while, Prance along with a broad smile, Serene in the knowledge that you’re wise, But when there comes the fall For some trivial little haul, It’s a very dis-a-gree-a-ble surprise.

—The O. P. News.