Conviniant Store Poem by Alyssa Marquardt

Bells chime.
Such an innocent sound.
Walk in silently.
With no one around.

The clock strikes five.
And they open the doors.
But they're there by four,
begging for more.

Conviniant for who?
Not me.
Not you.
Only for the ones.
Who walk those halls
with no remorse.

Different rooms for each merchandise.
Catagorized by time and price,
Jeopardized by looks and size.

The screams-
Sound like a welcoming thrill.
But they cover up the cries.

Blood, sweat and tears.
All day and all night.
Every girl's fear.
Brought to real life.

Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
The next costumer arrives.