commercialised ___
makes saint mad sad though rad glad !
roses bloom giggling ~
_________________________
He pays.
He leaves.
And she bleeds quietly.
Some come for release,
others for control.
Some come to forget.
Some to remember.
Some to be punished.
Some just come because it’s cheap.
It's sin.
It’s not sin.
It’s survival.
It’s escape.
It’s addiction.
It’s barter.
It's bargain.
It's need.
It’s ritual.
Here, bodies are commodities.
Sold by the hour.
Measured by the weight, age and colour of the skin,
freshness of smile,
limpness of resistance.
It is commercialisation of desire
wrapped in lace,
sold in whispers,
shared in commissions,
paid in bribes,
cashed in tips.
She lets strangers
from the corridor of silence
enter in the dark...
Screeching beds,
sweat,
blood and tears - at times
between pain, pleasure and numbness...
He comes. He goes.
But the scent lingers around like emptiness.
The curtain falls, when the last man zips,
And I lay my teacup after that last sip...
Christmas is no longer a season to be jolly
How the church feast whilst hunger prevail
Reaching out to the rich it ignores the poor
It is now an annual commercialisation pact
Speaking words is not same as living them
Truth it's now being hidden in the darkness
Many forced into debt they cannot afford
All because we chose to ignore it blessing
So men continues to walk in the darkness
What's your opinion,
All you Santa's opinion,
Is commercialisation a treason,
When it's the holy season,
And Jesus is the reason for the season?
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