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Thursday, September 8, 2022


Is there anything more disturbing
Than watching a life being sold
What once was deemed so important
Is now being auctioned, it seems cold

The family pictures of relatives forgotten
Unwanted heirlooms destined for resale
And every dish, clock, or rocking chair
If it could talk it has a story or tale

The antiques, the children don’t care
All they see are the dollar signs
They get rid of them soon as they can
Out of sight then they’re out of mind

And unfortunately, it is inevitable
Lives are sold every day of the week
The things once cherished, held onto
Are sold indiscriminately, so to speak

When you think about it, it is sad
Watching one’s life work sold away
Why do we think it’s all right to do
It may come back to haunt us someday

Sometimes at auctions, I become sad
As I watch the avid bidding wars
Knowing that a life once so important
Is being sold, to be remembered no more

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