A battle unfolds in the market's midst, so tight,
"Inflation's final furlong shall be the hardest," is the knight.
Housing cost and carriage used, their values we'll recite,
Yet endure, we'll stall, if the purse does not alight.

Hark! Hear news from the realm where Snap resides,
In fair tempt of creators, for this message presides.
Sales once declining, a lament through the tides,
Courting with new vigour, the merchant's fortune abides.

And last, an earnest tale worthy of a bard's sweet thrill,
To leave your gold for grandchild's bloom and not the taxman's fill.
The rules of old have shifted, thus bearing a novel will,
Rewrite thy plans fief, fore thy coffers spill.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur