Think Again Through the Marketplace
Two merchants to hand and one coin to part
Which thou art not unwilling to bequeath;
For thou art an unknown trader apart
From the ones wanting wealth beyond belief.
Lest suppliers receive what trade conceals,
Merchants hide from the Sun just to get by;
For even if the kiosks on wheels
Wildly scatter, you've never wheeled to lie.
O, but who am I to trust a stranger?
'Tis merchant is seeking for the unknown
And a collectible of another -
Someone to have and to hold as his own.
Perchance we are stuck to sell and to stall,
Just not to offer love's beckoning call.