Squaring his shoulders he gets out of the car,
Hears a voice in his head, “son you’ll go far”
Follow the training, put a smile on your face,
You can’t believe in yourself with a frown in place.
All right for them he thinks, they don’t face rejection,
Don’t feel the fear trying to make a connection
With suspicious people that come to the door,
Try to persuade till their soul's torn and raw.
Don’t wake in the morning doubting what it's for,
Having to plead and cajole, selling door to door,
Striving to provide for a precious wife and son
Toiling every day in freezing rain or burning sun.
They don't have to suffer comments that are crude,
Or have to endure verbal abuse, see the signs so rude,
Don't have to stop the bitter bile rising from the gut
Jump back when in their face a door's slammed shut.
Steeling himself he puts the thoughts out of his head,
Pushes away fear, that encompassing sense of dread,
Walks up the pathway, presses bell at the front door,
Smiles at the woman, starts his selling spiel once more.