The accidental Samaritan.
The man with every hair in place
stood neatly on the bridge.
Around his neck, an old school tie,
at the end was tied a fridge.
So many memories clustered
of a life lived in regret,
for the years of dull and daily grind
and the dreams still never met.
"Does that fridge work?"
there quietly came
a voice down from below.
"I appreciate you're busy
but I'd really like to know.
I'm currently quite down on luck
and if it's all the same to you,
it seems to me that it might
fetch a decent bob or two."
His conscience pricked, his instinct
kicked, the neat man slipped the noose,
"My pleasure sir, came his reply,
as he shook the memories loose.
"Your need is clearly greater,
that I can plainly see,
So take it with my blessing,
for 'tis worth far less to me."
"So kind of you," the voice replied,
"now I must be on my way.
But before I go, let me bid you,
a long and peaceful day.
Oh; and by the way, once I am gone,
you should maybe pause and think;
for without this fridge my generous friend,
you'll more likely float than sink!"
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