My free sample

The store down the lane was distributing some free samplesof milk powder and coffeewith my chest-high, I walked up to themfor the free samples, they refused to give meThen came a woman with a walking stickwearing a pastel palette shirtand a pair of purple funk jeansthey gave her a free samplewith a sneer on her face and a lazy hazeshe walked out of the store giving me that look. I hear voices of the talking heads behind me.with a straight edge and holding myselfI walked out of the storethere seem no fault linesand opted to get the flowery bouquetthe store next door was getting rid ofsomething better than nothingmy morning walk didn't go in vainfor I did get a free sample in the end.

This poem is about: 
My community


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