I sell to you,
you sell to me,
mutual deception until we’ve sold our souls.
Empty stares, empty eyes
going through motions they no longer see.
rehearsed smiles a meaningless bargain.
In the loneliness aisle
everyone is searching for meaning.
and scouring the earth for the vulnerable.
Profit trumps compassion
and cheap wants outweigh true needs.
©March 2015, Christina Anne Hawthorne