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Tinsel Chains.


December,

Can you hear,

All the bank accounts,

Tremor.


A month disguised,

In wander,

Splendour.


Let's take a moment,

Look at the bigger picture.

Remember,


Value.


A Friday,

Stamped Black.

Mirrored now,

A delicious irony.

Are we embarrassed,

Of our own reflection.


Bargains,

Deals,

Gifts,

Toys.

A day of false satisfaction.

Concealed.


How dependent we are,

Wrong we are.

Given in.

Gasping for any glimpse,

Of peace.


Associate happiness,

Through objects.

Instant gratification.


Surrendering,

Investing.

In the same industry,

Making such a mess of things.


Children.

Buried in paper,

Plastic.

For two days,

Their life,

So fantastic.


Like a drug,

Blurred.

Wanting more.

Always in need.


Through no fault of their own,

Birthed into greed.


These children,

That will one day,

Lead.


Through perspective,

Of confusion.

Only knowing a life,

Of yes.


The greatest,

Secret in the shadows.

That your life,

Is already so blessed.


We should put it to a test.

For one year.

Keep your money.

Share love with the ones who most need it.


We always say,

This is the true meaning of Christmas.

Surrounded by family.

Oh, how you've missed them.


Would be interesting,

To see.

If your day was any different.


Would we mourn,

The absence,

Of pretty,

Wrapped boxes.


Realise,

How trained we once were.

In a hypocrisy,

So toxic.


Discover how far,

We humans have lost it.

Viscous Magpies we've become.


Frozen,

In a cotorsion of tinsel,

Shiny distractions.


Scary.

If we turn off those twinkles,

Our true nature.

Can glimmer in the night.

Love the only light.


Absent of glutton,

Lets cut all the fuss.

Lead by example.

Live for only love.





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