Junk Shop Junkie By Mai Venn Poem by Mai Murphy Venn

I have this little problem, it is actually quite bad
It is a terrible affliction and people think I am mad
Some folks they gamble, more have trouble with the drink
While some love their tobacco even though it really stinks

Other love their horse racing, placing bets and all of that
Then you see more collecting postcards of dogs and cats
But I love to ramble into the old junk shop over town
It's there where I find little gem's when I am feeling down

When I arrive at that door, I'm in my world, my domain
I start searching for my treasures for there be no restrain
Looking on the shelves, in old boxes and all around
On a quest to rummage about for that is where I'm bound

Things that people want no more so they give them away
Memories they rather leave behind belonging to yesterday
Junk, that charity shops sell to make money for the poor
Becomes the jewels that I collect and bring inside my door

That old junk shop is my refuge from the ritual we call living
for there I found joy with the searching and the shifting
it's part of my daily task between the shopping and the cleaning
I'm a junk shop junkie if I make a find you can see me beaming

So come on all you bored housewife's and a lesson take from me
Don't walk by an old junk shop without going in to see what you can see
Just join the junk shop junkie in search of what stuff is fired away
If you are very lucky you could find a fortune on any giving day