The Executor

I had a friend who died and he

On earth so loved and trusted me

That ere he quit this worldly shore

He made me his executor.


He asked me through my natural life

To guard the interests of his wife.

To see that everything was done

Both for his daughter and his son.


I have his money to invest

And though I try my level best

To do that wisely, I’m advised,

My Judgement oft is criticized.


His widow, once so calm and meek,

Comes hot with rage three times a week

And rails at me because I must

To keep my oath, appear unjust.


His children hate the sight of me.

Although their friend I’ve tried to be.

And every relative declares,

I interfere with his affairs.


Now when I die I’ll never ask

A friend to carry such a task

I’ll spare him all such anguish sore

And leave a hired Executor.


- Anonymous