The Shop, Daily 28
28.
So this is the little shop
That you wish to stake your claim
Fill your precious storehouse
With sundries and fame.
So this is the commercial alter
That you pray to every night
Sell your cheap drink umbrellas
Hit on miracle sprites.
So this is the fun palace
That you built upon the sand
Worry not about foundation
Spit irreverently on its land.
So this is your soul’s investment
That you spend hours at play
Kill your own profit
Push eternal life away.
Copyright © Autumn Ehrhardt | Year Posted 2011
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