I saw an old man at the superstore,
one captivated to such an extent
as often had him drifting down the aisles
in roguish fashion, as if his intent
were not so much to buy, as to possess
in access free, and save the same sum spent
by others more impulsive, less experienced.
And watching him, the fact began to dawn
that things bought soon lose novelty and fade,
but once bought serve their purpose and are plain,
the glamour for the sale reserved, once paid
for leaves the consequence that owns the man.
And so older, the wiser, till the day
he's called a miser, nothing more will spend.
