Money Back Guarantees

His lips wound around my brain
in honeyed lashes of sincerity,
so sublime and heart felt,
the world would end before his word failed,
this saint of sales was a knight,
a pure crusader of the working man’s plight,
only veracity could come from his voice,
with a spirit being so golden and unblemished by greed
because his retail career was a calling.

Oh the facts spewed forth in intimate detail,
every facet of his product exposed,
nothing kept secret to insured
only truth was attached to his comments
for customer satisfaction he claimed
meant the difference between grief and ecstasy.

And to set my decision in a concrete conviction
he waved that money back guarantee
before my trusting eyes.

Surely with such insurance I was safe,
could walk out of his store with my prize,
aloft in the security that my purchase
would mirroring every promise made,
merchandise utopia found in this sales paradise
where only reality was vowed as shared
with every object offered
covered with this refund bond.

When my dream acquisition died
I didn’t fear or fret
for I had that document to rescue my disappointment,
happily returning it to the counter,
expecting this parchment to be my protector,
only finding out too late,
there was more profit in the space between the lines
where the exceptions made sure
all I got was sympathetic phrases
and never a dime back.