Shoddy Bandaids and Complex Metaphors

Hey kids I'm going to make a quick trip to the store,
We're all out of bandaids again and we desperately need more,
For my wounds are bleeding profusely after the last set tore,
All have been exposed from my orphaned childhood to after the second war,
Is this death by a thousand cuts I'm not keeping score,
I could've sworn I saw our neighbor Eustice Nuoin wearing one so therefore,
He must have some to lend to his old friend Sam Bailor,
I'll just go across the pond and knock on his door,
This will surely save some time on an honest trip to the store,
Unless he has already exhausted his reservoir,
Of bandaids and metaphors.