Behind the walls of frosted glass,
trapped within palladium rooms,
I stopped to hear the beckoning,
an impending sense of wicked doom.
I lifted up my eyes to search,
I turned to see what insight sought,
and knew that I should ponder first,
Should I or should I naught?
Temptation moved my willing feet,
Gumption lead the wayward way,
Till I was near enough to touch and feel,
My weak heart wept being lead astray.
My fingers with their own sweet mind,
caressed and stroked at will;
With owning pride, not shy or coy,
My head spun with the thrill.
Battling head and batting heart,
I fought to find a snag,
to dissuade my frivolous need,
to buy another handbag.
©
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