Not For Sale

“What are we?” The child inquired.
Asking how the family’s wired.
“What’s the thing that we all are?”
Innocent as “Type of car.”

Precious questions, how I smiled-
History of man compiled.
Some might live what I would say
Believing there’s no other way.

Finally, we are… “Not for sale.”
“Put no flyers in the mail.
You’ll discover in good time-
Views that will be worth the climb.”

“There’s no word I can just slip you-
Not the way I should equip you.
Watch me son, I’ll interact-
The storms will leave me still intact.”

“Honest, free, like wells of passion-
Thinking, feeling, these will fashion
Answers you will understand.
Be- just what your heart has planned.”

John H. Bidwell