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And this is why you shouldn't mock the aged in Perth.

Two young entrepeneurs admired their store
it held the stools they sat on, nothing more.
The place was bare but there, potential lay
in wait for stocks which they'd sell everyday.
One jested to the other as they sat,
'How long d'ye think it will be, before that
some auld grey-heeded punter gi's a yell
and asks us whit the feek we're tryin' tay sell? '
Sure enuff, afore his words had hit the floor
a Cotton-wool Heed, knocked upon the door.
'Hello boys, can ye tell me whit ye're sellin'? '
A glib retort within their mind was jellin'.
' We specialise in r=soles' came the jest.
But the auld lassie's reply, by far, was best.

'Ye must be crackin' salesmen, keen an' deft.......
it looks as though ye've just two r-soles left! '

(Based on a recounting of a supposedly true event)

poem by Hola Mentirosa
Added by Poetry Lover
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