Advertisements pepper me with pleas;
Screaming for my attention,
Claiming little pieces
Of my eyes and ears and nose
Like children feverishly grabbing candy
At a homecoming parade.
The spam threatens to drag me
Into the rat race,
To sprint from here
In the frenzy to fulfill
The collectorís assortment
But the ever-enticing neon lights
The choice to feed the lusts
Is like the choice to
Drain the ocean
No, I think Iíll delete the spam
And trash the ads
And switch off the commercials;
I donít have the time
To give my time
To everything that pulls at me.
I only have twenty-four hours a day;
I choose to sip the golds of autumn,
And inhale the pinks of spring,
And find fulfillment
In the simple joys
Of life, here
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