A Monorhyme poem written for Week 24 of Poetic Explorations.
The stares of patrons preoccupied
with sales galore at Yuletide.
The crowds push forth undignified,
and grab at wares unjustified.
Yet one there knows she must decide
if selling her soul is worth the ride.
A feeling quite dissatisfied
at knowing how she's gratified
her own self-gain; yet fears aside
she feels she must be bonafide
to save her from sale genocide.
Author's Notes:
A Monorhyme is a poem in which all the lines have the same end rhyme.
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