Life On Sale

They had a sale at Christmas time. Life was 'half off' for all. And so I thought: “Ah, what ta heck — I’ll get me one - size small.” The store was full of searching souls, their plastic — firm in hand. All goods were going faster than wet water in dry sand. I found a life without a box. The warranty was gone. A clerk knocked off 10 more percent and threw in extra brawn. The brawn was added to my life, and I was set to buy. I joined a line of other dopes but then things went awry. As I advanced toward the cash, I saw just what I had: A life with spots and dents and nicks — too long, too short... too bad. Perhaps another life would do, but none was left in store. There was a Christmas rush that day. I’d lost and knew the score. And so I paid. The lady grinned and gave me my receipt. “Enjoy your life,” she winked at me. “It will be bitter-sweet.” She got it right, that’s how it went from that day on... and on. I’ve tried returning it at times, but my receipt is gone. And selling it online won’t work ‘cause others have their own. They’d sell it too, but who will buy? We reap that which is sown. It's gotten dusty over time, beat up and somewhat bent. I try to use it best I can - pretend it's heaven-sent. I know the batteries won't last. They're bound to lose their juice. But until then I won't relent. Why should I? What the deuce! So I’ve decided that today I’ll offer it to you. It’s not a gift, but you can share... until my time is through.