poem for black friday

Amazing sales! How sweet the sound

Of checkouts is to me.

My cool I’ve lost, but bargains found -

This stuff is almost free!

‘Twas crowds that taught my heart to fear

But now I feel relieved.

(When Visa sees this lot appear

‘Twill never be believed.)

Through many flailing, fighting Sales

I have already come.

And Oxford Street is Hell – with gales.

God help me get it home!

Don’t lay your garments down there, mate;

Some nerd will nab them quick.

This dress in mauve, please – what, you’ve none?

O, don’t it make you sick!

How sweet the name Black Friday sounds

To bargain hunters' ears.

Despite the hordes and major wounds

There’s major savings here.

Shall I be carried to the skies
On flow'ry beds of ease,
While others fight to win the prize?
No way – now gangway, please!

Amazing Sales! At any cost -

To touch, to feel, to grab;

The winter’s dark, but I’m not lost -

New Year I’m in rehab.