What will it be this time?
As you trundle down the streets
you hold tight onto the change
you fought so long to have:
dishes were washed,
rubbish carried out,
rooms tidied and cleaned,
you even looked after your sister.
Small prices to pay for the prize.

What will it be this time?
As you trundle down the streets
you mentally check the pile
it took so long to have:
hiding, under the bed,
number after number,
in a bag, in a box,
away from your sister.
A small but prized possession.

What will it be this time?
The King will send you
on journeys through galaxies
and titans, worlds of wonder.
The Man will send you
on truly believable adventures
in cities full of problems.
The Mage will send you
to the realm of dreams
and creatures and things.

What will it be this time?
Your mind swarms
with caped crusaders and men of steel
Amazonian princesses and walking dreams
mutants and spiders and lightning
robots and monsters and aliens
…almost giddy, you open the door.

What will it be this time?
Bell rings, smile on your face,
you walk by the wall of wonders,
and stop at the counter almost too tall
for your arms to reach.

‘Sorry kid, shipment’s late.
Try this time next week.’