In this age of consumption,
a time of
consumer objectification.
Dehumanised
by shopfront prostitution,
making you want
want they are offering.
Advertising signs tell us lies.
Pay for it.
Papering over the cracks.
Paying for happiness in shopping bags
when sadness is king,
and human contact
is what we are ewally lacking.
Decadent sighs,
for a few fake smiles.
Despondent nights,
in debt up to your eyes.
Slimeball conmen
see you coming
and offer it all, the world and more.
Just pay us your soul,
leave it behind at the door.
Disposable incomes,
victims of the fashion system.
Victims of advertising mysticism.
Blink and you'd miss them,
the subliminal messages.
Buy. Buy. Buy.
Don't you want to be popular?
Fit in with the crowd, feel the high
as the dopamine clouds your wisdom.
Indulge in the overflowing slops.
Fill your bellies
the luxuries never stop.
Cash strapped? Get it on credit
where the interest is sky-high.
Still paying for last year?
Don't cry.
Sell your liver,
we will make the best
christmas dinners.
Pate? Let's party.
Get your wallet out, untie the purse strings
and buy all the lies we are selling.
Thanks for reading
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