Pity out-of-control hoarders,
Psychologically scarred silent generation
Persistent Post-war insecurity disorders;
Vestige of a past-rationed population.

Desperate to never miss another meal,
Piling up boxes of crap,
Over-sensitive to a percieved good deal,
Most never even unpacked.

Afraid to dispose of
Out-of-date cans,
Jars and dried goods,
Scraps of clothes long past their best,
Nicks and nacks like a magpie’s nest,
Newspapers piled high –
Teetering towers of fire-hazard,
Fodder for white ants and rats.
Cupboards and floors their favourite habitats.

Bring on the tutting younger kin,
Topoloftical Telly Lifestyle Evangelist
Or patronising shrink
To deal with their mess.
We know it’s a problem.
A dangerous failing;
Unhealthy…

So, what of the billionaire?
Damaged, semi-human tax-haven obsessive.
Hoarding money in off-shore accounts.
To what end?
Simply grow the dough
Or
Another country mansion, never visited?
A new Rolls Royce – top of the range of course?
Perhaps a grotesque yacht?
Simple satisfaction in defeating The Revenue?
Self-satisfied philanthropy (not),
Giving what shouldn’t’ve been theirs
To causes on a corrupted whim.
Power grasped by hugely inadequate
Sociopathic
Husks of humanity
(who know we are sub-human).
What do their shrinks do?

Should we not care about these poor, perverse collectors of currency?
Help them address their psychological woes?
The damage invested by excessive funds
And too many unresolved zeroes?
Governments owe it to our rich to help them,
Relieve some of the awful burden of wealth.
It’s for their own good, after all.

Capitalists celebrate the excessively rich as examples of success and enterprise. Perhaps it would be more helpful to wonder at the damage done to these poor (in sprit) individuals, who harm themselves with their greed more than the people they exploit.