Ram Josyula

The Travails Of A Salesman Rediscovered On A Rainy Evening... - Poem by Ram Josyula

Out on the drenched roads since morning,
Braving rains – it’s been pouring incessantly,
Desperate to reach out to potential customers,
Making rounds of home visits to materialize sales,
Sales – O! Yes, that elusive elixir of my tribe – the salesmen type.

A knock on their doors – always met with suspicion,
Persuasion to buy makes no dent on their walls of indifference,
A small share of the consumer wallet – a simple desire,
Turned into a chase, a relentless pursuit by every sheep,
Now my entire flock bears one collective stamp – invasive intruders.

Just my luck today – one lead did get converted to a customer,
Wish to celebrate this now, a feat it is to get one yay in the woods of nay,
Ah! But one sale is never too enough, the credit weans away far too quick,
Back on road to grind again that routine of customer engagement lifecycle,
Profile the unknowns, make cold leads hot and close out hot leads as customers.

Oh! He sells for a living; this many may consider objectionable,
But he is not alone in this, sales is something everyone does as well,
That way you dress when you are going for an interview,
Aren’t you selling yourself? And at the local church every Sunday,
When the priest delivers the sermon, isn’t he selling God to everyone?
The point is we all sell and yet we desist being sold to, that’s such a parody...

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, August 22, 2010

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