Poem: An Auction


Staring at the curvature of the peddles on the flower you just gave me, 
I can’t help to think that I have been sold for the price of a rose,
My heart betraying me to the auction teller, 
Shouting out what bid will take me
And I feel for the lowest one because 
Of the hope in your eyes
And the love on your lips
And the care in your smile.

So maybe I fell for the highest bidder, 
The one who can pay me in laughter and giggles, 
The one who can truly call himself the winner
Of my heart, my soul and my mind. 

Because money can only buy a grin, 
Not a smile that begins from the welling emotion
Of unbridled happiness.



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