The Giver and the Gifts

Come passerby, don't be shy
stay for a while, don't just pass me by

Here is a bazaar far from being bizarre
Join me here in taking your pick
Come with your doors and hearts ajar
There is more than enough, no need to panic

Would you like a pretty bangle, yours to jingle
or letters that sing you affection forever
A doll that makes your big eyes twinkle
or a man to call your own saviour?

This place I had frequent, and I may come again
because I am forgetful and cannot abstain
So I gain and lose, and lose and gain
only to find all hoarding to be in vain

I once had plenty which I held dear
But my small hands could only hold this much
The stronger my grip, the more I fear
So the best gifts became those I cannot touch

Everything I see, everything I hear
objects, subjects, and factory rejects
must be placed on the floor in my last year
Hands behind my head, like crime scene suspects

So I see how I am a fool in my chase
competing with others in an endless race
Why cling on to gifts when you have the giver
why cling on to the mades when you have the maker

What he gives he can also take
and what he takes, he can always duplicate
To return his children the piece of cake
that they thought they once had on their plate