When I was a child, I did not know what's a discount.
I never asked for much, because I waited for my own pound.
Then I took a profession, they call it a sales hound.
I sold to people stallions, who they always wanted to mount.
I never lied, I never cheated, fools who don't sell, think unsound.
I tapped into desires, fetish, hidden lust, and gave them a merry go round.
Then I met this word called discount.
They told me your mare is same as his mare, so why should I mount?
They knew he was brighter, his legs far tighter, his spirit soar brighter,
But the liars they always thought they were smarter.
I saw their idiocy, I saw their nudity, just as a whore would see of her master,
But I was to make a sale, not to change their rotten ale, therefore I got the wiser.
But when I am the buyer, and my vendor comes to me with a shaver,
I throw him off my list, because I don't want a bitch,
I want a woman, a soul, a solution, for my ever thirsty itch.
Hardik Vaidya's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Discounts. by Hardik Vaidya )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- The Baobab Tree, I Am Krakatoa
- Game of chance, Aftab Alam
- 'Tween Love and Hatred,, Aftab Alam
- Life alright, hasmukh amathalal
- A Child Is Like A Flowering Rose, Joseph T. Renaldi
- Only one...1, hasmukh amathalal
- Caring For A Lonely Heart, Joseph T. Renaldi
- Play Any Tune, Neela Nath
- It Was the Best Day, Sandra Feldman
- My Sweet Little Child, Luis Estable