The Keychain.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

there is always a compromise
between want and need and so

you take one, just one, just
once, and you tell no one but

then this secret creeps and goes
into the mall, and begins to be

seen by all those who are cats in
their curious suits, and so the

secrets goes on sale with ads and
bidding, the need begets wants

and myriad compromises come like
peanuts mashed into butter caught

in a bottle for sale at 999.99
per kilo and the lady there sings

like heaven and the the angels
come in a plaster of Paris where

the apple of discord is thrown and
hence the war and refugees abound.