THE CHARITY SHOP:

Second hand, tatty, abandoned & so used,

Olden, faded, ripped, torn & so sadly abused,

Reeking of old age, damp, blue mildew & mould,

Upon dusty dank shelves, for sale, everything old.

 

The shop is the mouth, that swallows old things,

Furniture dull & jewelry, that now no longer blings,

All smelling of mothballs, decay & dead grey must,

Bargains for all those, who never cared about dust.

 

Items never needed, from the long dead & departed,

Houses dismantled, by heirs, uncaring, cold hearted,

Old photos & ball gowns, all items, telling their stories,

Items, of past battles once fought, of life & her glories.

 

And with each memory sold, to every caring kind soul,

A few pence may help, to making someone ill, whole,

The charity shops, doing their best & all that they can,

Adding few pennies & pounds, to the marathons ran.

 

The sale of old bits, bobs & those long ago pieces,

Go towards poverty & illness, hoping it all ceases,

Every little helps, towards that long winding mile,

Please support that volunteer, with the welcoming smile.