A poem lamenting an impulse buy on eBay
‘Mint condition guaranteed,’ it said,
‘Sleep Inducer.’ Long bereft of zest
And dying to relax for once in bed,
My bid was rash and higher than the rest.
Tormented by insomnia each night,
I toss and turn and yearn for sweet repose
But, speared and lanced by daybreak’s shafts of light,
I meet each morning cowed and comatose.
At least, at last, my bid bode well I hoped,
A bargain such as this was worth the price,
No longer days of feeling dazed and doped,
Nocturnal torture banished in a trice.
Oh foolish me, fleeced by an eBay crook
Whose promise of sweet dreams and slumbers deep
Turned out to be an illustrated book
With countless prints, on every page, of sheep.
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