I saw a sign that read out “Sell your Years”
The windows were both black, and boarded
As if to label the entirety of the business sordid.
No one seemed to enter or depart
Nor a clue to those outside impart.
I might have simply strolled on by
Had the owner not been spry.
“Come inside and shop around,”
“We have things that will astound!”
I heard him say as he stepped out
A lively man, quite short and stout.
With hesitation, I agreed
Fulfilling some psychotic need.
Inside were rows of crystal spheres
Picking up on ancient fears.
Spyglass moved in my direction
Gaining insights from reflection.
“Sit, good sir, while I prepare”
The owner said with certain flare.
With ease he shot right down the aisle
And mixed things in a smoky vial.
Herbs, and mist, composed its form
As did cloud, and lightening storm.
“Drink, drink” implored the clerk,
Rubbing hands together with a smirk.
“What does it do,” I asked of him,
My clairvoyance growing rather grim.
“Time separates your love and you
But it shall not, with taste of brew!”
I was shocked to see he knew my life
But took the chance to end my strife.
Years were nothing with her gone,
I’d trade a million nights for just one dawn!
I made a toast and gulped it down –
The hair receded from my crown.
My neck and back
Both needed cracked.
But, the shop keep had grown young
And skipped, and walked about high sprung.
With laughter, he danced,
A strong-boned dance
And did a jig outside the door
To see the sights he long abhorred.
As for me, I went to kiss
That whom I so sorely missed.