Black Friday crowds

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Fleeced

Our focus lost to door busters

Glossy color ads alluring as crack

A day of thanks reduced to dreams of Black Friday conquest

How sad it is to see culture sacrificed

Left in the ruin of materialism

Family and friends the means to an end

A holiday of joy and reflection

Reduced to nothing more than a chore

Is this what it means to give thanks

To revel in the company of loved ones

We have forgotten ourselves

What we are, why we are, who we are

Money has replaced our morality

Something to be worshiped and treasured

With something to be kept in a bank or a box

This cannot be our destiny

To lose our souls to that which is finite

What sorrow this brings

To watch what was once incorruptible

Held hostage to mere mortal desires for gratification

Pray we find the path redrawn by our moral compass

Rekindling the joy cherished by those that came before.