The SalesmanA Poem by TTBoy28Two doors left that will tell whether or not my needs will be cared for How dire I am for letting myself get so damn dire Keep the smile or paint one on when I get there clear the throat first by talking to myself But it’s always show time Never knowing who I might meet So pitch perfect Demeanor and persona well-crafted Who or what could resist this cad before they open up Be it me who prostitutes for an establishment that takes more than their fair share Though the lingo may not be the same work means a sell And quotas consume me And humiliation arises when they don’t sign Work means a sell as long as I can walk I have been programmed to not take No to not hear No Like a rape of the world there lies the aggressive and the submissive A refusal right now means stalking from now on So I must adhere to the plan So as I eat while viewing all my paid in full receipts I recall the fear in myself instilled in them when I get my foot in the door Where is the true compassion when grandpa writes his last check and immediately checks to confirm his funds I am my pimps moneymaker who will stoop to any level to build his name And stoop I will then do when I get down to the wire Two doors left The big bad wolf am I craving the little pigs for my dollar signs in the sky And should they not let me in I can be a pest’s best friend Just that next time it will be me doing the unscheduled drive by B***h slaps hurt everybody when they can’t see the benefits of loyalty
© 2013 TTBoy28 |
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Added on April 18, 2013 Last Updated on April 18, 2013 AuthorTTBoy28Atlanta, GAAboutI am the former TTBoy. I am Buddhist. I write only the truth as I see it. This may sound ridiculous to some, but sometimes the truth gets in the way. The truth shall set you free. I try to be ad.. more..Writing
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