I thought that I would be sad,
when I lost all that I had.
But I’m not shopping mad,
and for that I’m so damn glad.
Look at all those gifts we give.
For material things, that’s why we live.
We say we hate, but we forgive,
every corporate executive.
When is capitalism a crime
if I’m down to my last dime?
My credit gives me time,
but out of debt, will I ever climb?
Move over Thanksgiving Day!
Get it past and out of the way!
I need a shopping holiday.
‘Cause “giving thanks” is an old cliché.
Those Indians, what did they know?
Not one was a shopping pro.
That’s why they had to go.
They delivered to capitalism, quite a blow.
Just how thankful should we be,
such as an Iraqi refugee?
Oh, they love you and they love me,
since we came and made them flee.
Those in Ukraine are thankful too.
They’ve got Nazis with a swastika tattoo.
Thanks to that ever so helpful coup,
arranged by the good ole red, white and blue.
Americans are stupid and that’s for sure.
Their hearts don’t beat and their souls ain’t pure.
Compassion and selflessness will never endure.
They can’t be found in a Macy’s brochure.
So, hit the malls and department stores.
They’re selling their wares like strung-out whores.
When the gates open, feet pound the floors.
It never ends, those shopping wars.
You got hacked and now you’re back.
We assure you, we’ve stopped the attack.
Buy everything that’s on this rack.
This time next week, we’re shooting for Black!
Shelby I. Courtland
©2014 Shelby I. Courtland