Day 350: Mr Salesman

Think about being a Salesman for a day, collecting and selling memories back to yourself without charge. Just making the case to reflect back to the little things that you have left behind, maybe nostalgia somehow, maybe pieces you wrote that you don't remember anyone, doodles on the sides of pages or even pictures that speak to you without frames. They are pieces that are kept on displays only in your mind, and yet they are reminded by yourself, the salesman who sells memories back to himself. Who are you waiting for keep going back to the same door, I am just collecting memories scattered on the floor.

Mr Salesman
Mr Salesman and the keeper of dreams
You seem to be selling the world within
Things that aren't on catalog pages for now
They are just on sale from you somehow

Dear philosopher of ages and doodler in my diaries
You are words and sketches that are set free
You are on walls of my mind , like museum pieces on display
Moments where I haven't grown & still get to play

Mr Salesman you are different, like this other side of me
You are my collection of vintage & black and white memories
So you sell them back without price tags in place
Just reminders some rainy days and across some nights

Are you still collecting things to keep
While I count the hours of the day that I dream or even sleep
May intermittent at best you come to my door
While I keep looking back at the things for sale & some on the floor

Mr Salesman you are in the old and the new
You are simple things I try to remember & piece together too