Door-to-Door Sales

Your foot's in the door

Keeping it ajar

My pride's on the floor

Weeping from afar

Adjoining rooms are portals

For the feckless mortals

Who shouldn't be together

Conjoined in life by tether

It will hurt when I stomp

On the foot from the swamp

That keeps me in the slaughter

Come Hell or high water

It's a final blow

That crushes the toe

And causes withdrawal

From death laced in floral

For slam and shut and lock and seal

Are not pretty words to end our ordeal

Time's come to stop the shelling

I can no longer buy what you're selling