two men strolled door-to-door with polished shoes and crooked smiles,
clutching pamphlets promising salvation wrapped in schemes.
"have you heard the good news?"
they would ask in perfect unison, their shadows long and sharp in the grass.
their pitch was honeyed and practiced,
weaving dreams of wealth, freedom, and destiny for the desperate and the daring.
yet, for every handshake and hesitant "yes," a subtle smirk crept across their faces, a flicker betraying their intent.
for the good news they carried was not theirs to share,
and the opportunities they peddled
were as hollow as the setting sun behind them.
~m
