Heart for sale.

How much for my heart? I asked a lady
Handing over my loving heart
at the village fair
one August
She winked and threw it to my face
And laughed, and roared
“not worth a pretty penny, not worth a penny”
I picked it up and headed on
Trod on the dusty roads
Heading towards the next town
Hoping to be accepted once
I met a lady riding a horse
She offered to let me ride along
As I sat behind, and her hair brushed my face
I asked, how much for my heart?
She was silent until we touched town
As I hopped down, she dismounted too
Held my heart, looked at it up and down
Then threw it back to my face
And laughed and roared
“not worth a pretty penny, not worth a penny”
I picked it up and headed on
To the town square, where the markets were
Chancing upon an empty stall
I sat down, set my heart, leaned against a wall
Classic salesman, “one genuine loving heart for sale” said I
I caught a glimpse of a passer-by
She stood dressed in yellow, she stood and stared
I plopped my heart into her hands
Pitched to her in my nicest voice
it has had no master
It has had no hate,
One that will love and wait,
How much shall you pay, for this beautiful heart?
She rolled it over in her hand,
Polished it a little by rubbing on it with sand
Weighed it by tossing and made a cautious face
I knew what was coming, I was ready to face disgrace
She smiled and asked, “why is it for sale?”
I told her stories, all my broken-hearted tales
She held my heart again and asked for a barter
I told her to choose whatever
For to sell it was my gain
She offered her own, in its place
Only darker, filled with nothing but contempt
Like a good salesman would, I promptly nodded

Promptly underwent a quick exchange

Now on to the next town

To Sell this too.