Store (an acrostic poem)

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Selling pieces of his soul was the only way he could get ahead
They were not large pieces, but they all added up
Outside everything was fine, but inside, the echoes of who he had been became a cacophony
Relegating his self-worth into moral bankruptcy
Eventually, he ran out of product, closed up shop, and faded from memory

Pouch (an acrostic poem)

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Perhaps he pretty much was a slouch

Obviously because he never left his couch

Under that gut he had quite the brain I can avouch

Could be churlish and his taste quite louche

He made his money from selling his indoor poncho with a built in …

Cult (an acrostic poem)

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Come join our club, we have all the truth

Unless you challenge what we are selling

Let’s just say you’ve got to drink the Kool Aid

Then do what you are told.  We know better.  Or else.