The Ads

“What do you want?”
They continually ask me this question,
Both God and Satan ask me this question,
And everyone in between ask me this question.

What do I want?
                         (I say...) 
I don’t know.
                         (But really I don’t want to say
                          because I don’t believe I can have what I want,
                          and even if I get what I want,
                          I am afraid I will be disappointed,
                          because what if what I wanted
                          wasn’t really what I wanted,
                          so, I say... )
I am fine.
I already have enough.
(Though, really there can never be enough!)
So they tell me what I really want.
Insurance, hamburgers, a new car, soft but strong toilet paper.
More!
They tell me I want more,
A new phone, a bigger house,
And to be young forever,
To dance on the beaches of Maui,
A better job, a bigger retirement check to spend
A big beautiful wall!
“You want more!”
(And I suppose I do!  I really do…)
I know what I want.
I want one more day.