Treasure

There was in one village, a rich farmer

Seven years of heavy usage, and he discarded his tractor

Worn-out it was with the red paint turned brown

With so deep a rust, the farmer had a perennial frown

A sharp business man, a vehicle dealer took it in

And spent five good hours remodeling it

And sold it to wealthy Mr. Good Goon

At a price that fetched him a fortune

He next discarded wrongly printed papers

Picked up by the paper recycler, this prized addition of hers

 As she strolled to pour away excess flour into the bin

Oh! To waste so much was a sin!

Had it been in the hands of the baker next door

She would have baked a cake, cream in its core

But she threw away, on that very day

A huge, pink, wrongly baked cake

A poor man, a tramp picked it up

And drooled over it. Oh! It wouldn’t fit his wooden begging cup

He threw way the cup, blinded by his lucky moment

Unaware that another cup would he have to rent

The cup broke down and mixed with the soil

It formed the farmer’s treasure, the nutrient rich soil.

Oh! Now where is my treasure hiding?