We amble down
whirling conveyor belt streets,
between shiny glamourous shop fronts.
This factory town
promising all new consumer treats.
Join the herd,
shuffling towards the shopping centre.
No time to enter
the little family shops,
only the big chains will serve us gruel
instead of slops.
Attracted to the lights,
consumer addicts
catch sight
of new highs.
Slow lane traffic,
the grindstone roads,
grinding us down to the bone,
but onwards we must go,
headfirst into the hungry crowds below.
Into the churning machinery
that makes this city flow.
Christmas is coming
and our bags are not yet
slowing us down
Not sinking our bank accounts
until we drown.
We must spend more.
Don't want the neighbours
to think we are poor,
even if we are repaying for years.
Let's get some glowing lights to cover the house.
Watch our electricity meter
though the flowing tears.
Christmas crowds huddle
to keep warm,
they must keep marching.
Between shop front and
identical shop front.
Need the latest iPhone,
the shiniest bling,
another new toy
to take the place
of last year's plaything.
It's not Christmas
without all of the trimmings.
They shout,
waving their money about.
But quickly put it safely back in pocket
as they speed up
and walk past
the tear-stained cardboard sign.
Shops promising Christmas delights,
under sparkling fairy lights.
Yet it’s the same tat on display,
just marked up in price,
some fake snow spray
and annoying jingling songs
playing all day.
Thanks for reading
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