Will she, won’t she
buy my Christmas wares:
If I work to sell me
will she take my snare?

The practiced pitter-patter
of my seller’s pitch
hangs in crisp cold air
and hopes to scratch her itch.

Her eyes dart to and fro
from one stall to the next:
the jingling coins’ fickle flow,
Christmas bells that leave me vexed.

Will she, won’t she,
see this heart that beats?
What if I add it free
to the sale of these sweetmeats?

Each moment wisps of tinsel
a-flutter in icy gales:
I fear her dismissal
as I grasp at just one more sale.

A spark of insight melts the ice
in a tiny warming breeze:
It’s not my wares I price,
but what I’m truly selling’s me.

A wise man once said,
if you want to allow yourself a bread,
you need to know how to sell yourself
when he found my dusty grey shelf.

Young Me asked — “What is it that I need to sell,”

and he responded,

“sell your laugh
with a mouthful of pebbles in your mouth,
then sprawl your wings of a moth
and mimic a butterfly,”

“But, that's All I have left!” Young me screeched -
protecting the only vanity I possessed,
which I put on the market so cheap, so priceless
to those who never will to pay,
but I demanded the bidding too high
to those who gave me
a worthless charity,
a careless pity.

i went to the market today
i bought myself a fresh bundle
not of your favourites, but of mine
of yellow and blue with green stems

tonight i will fill the mason jar fresh
with water and petals floating alongside
and i will watch as the petals drop
one by one i save them, dried

tomorrow i will go to the market
i will walk to the water and smile
i will skip rocks on the shore
and watch the waves stretch out for miles

i will keep those petals in a jar
those of green and yellow and blue
i will remember their place on my shelf
i will always remember you

Now, I like to sing Jazz and I'm millennial investor
When the Crona came I had to sell all my Tesla
But I hope if you listen in a decade or less
You remember this song with a smile on your face

Robinhood story has been trending four years
Raising new generation of bulls and bears
Letting smaller fish swim alongside sharks and whales
That’s how I became a fan of fractional shares!

I believe they will grow they were growing before
Nothing can stop me from getting some more
Oh I love buying low like a pro
Selling is also an option to know

Now, I have some snacks, I read reports on the stock
What is Under the hood, what's the talk of the block?
Talking heads on the-Street could be playing their game
Let the buyer beware! And there's no one to blame

Robinhood stock has joined the show
Ticker "HOOD" is in business come rain or snow
And so after a long night of trying to sleep
When I open my app, I just pray for the dip

Now, I hear of new coin on the crypto market
They say it costs a penny but has a dollar target
I say thanks but they're plenty of crap coins around
I already have good coins in my Gold account

Robinhood crypto is well on the rise
Litecoin, Dogecoin, Bitcoin - they rhyme nice!
If I get some Ethereum I’ll cling to it tight
With those coins in my wallet, my future is bright

I believe in the crypto, I believe in the hood
But I'm not a prophet don't let me be misunderstood
Though it might be a one-time deal
Even Santa Claus rally could go downhill

I believe they will grow they were growing before
Nothing can stop me from getting some more
Oh I love buying low like a pro
C’mon give me that access to best IPOs, best IPOs

Now, I have an opinion I don't give advice
You buy or you sell, you gotta think twice!

Sunday morning, I am running at the farm market,
For buying three pounds of organic enlightenment,
Glutes tight, chest stiff,
Every single step is marked on the asphalt,
A little bird pooped on my forehead,
Hoaxed by this joke I stepped on some dog ****,
That got me mad even more, while an old lady asked me
to carry her over the pit. I mimic, wait
“I will give you help after, I am in a hurry,
I want to buy three pounds of organic enlightenment”
I keep running, every Sunday morning at the farm market.