THIS STROLL I DREAMED

“love auction,” a flyer alleged, on this stroll i dreamed

curious, i walked in, craving to find warmth and esteem

portraitures of emotions, i kept sorting through feelings

realizing love was no bargain, and neither was it clean

“loyalty”, i thought, “costs much more than a simple plea

bitterness, on the other hand, they seem to offer for free

loneliness and pain, both smuggle for the price of sorry

good value indeed, considering their lifetime guarantee”

i sat there, weighing my heart, against items of luxury

none to afford, but perhaps, i could barter sincerity

so i neared the broker, anxious, for one modest query

but she sighed, eyeing i: “sorry, but love ain’t for free.”