He Is Just A Salesman Poem by Prabhakar Sarma Neog

Mom, there is a man at our door
He wants to talk to you.

The man was weary
His hair was like hay
His face was wrinkled
But a pair of eyes of steel.

Mom was angry
Go play in your room son,
He is just a salesman.
Salesman, didn't I tell you never to come again?

The man said,
Mom is right son,
I sold a heart to your mom long long ago
She promised one back but never paid
Now I want to sell another for free,
She will not allow me now.