Dear Mr.Shopkeeper man,
Though I am weak and blind,
I cross the street with a hope.
This list I wrote this morning,
Hope my quest fares well,
Not mine , but the hunger of ages,
Is to be satisfied by what I seek.
A big packet of peace,
No matter the cost,
I shall buy it,
To garnish man's abode.
A double purchase of a box of love,
It is the salt , which will make this world,
A better to place to live in,
For man has lost the soft in his heart,
His heart a chisel , that carves every unturning stone.
A bottle of hope for the orphans across the street,
The little ones haven't had their supper yet,
And I worry , they might not get their share,
When the care takers arrive , theirs is an
appetite that fills on three servings of charity.
Would you also give me a carton of amnesia,
I pray that they don't miss their mothers.
And please pack it with a heart if you have any,
So they may not miss the love that they have lost.
And the final item on the list , to make my room pure,
A bug spray , that would kill all the missiles flying in my room,
And destroy all the guns , that keep me awake at night,
With their most horrible bites and stings.
Dear Mr.Shopkeeper man , though I am a little child,
And cannot afford that which I have asked,
Mr.Shopkeeper man, are you all out of my items,
Or have these wonderful little things ,
Not come into market yet?