This poem isn’t sponsored by. . .

This poem isn’t sponsored by. . .

 

This poem isn’t sponsored by diet coke,

Or sugar free super strength water,

Its not affiliated with the latest technology,

Especially not a talking toy daughter.

 

No one bought the title of the poem,

No advertising over the verse breaks,

No catchy slogans or hidden messages,

No eye catching logos up for takes.

 

No names of betting companies here,

Selling a dream but giving nightmares,

Boost your odds and accumulate debt,

Collecting money to sell more dares.

 

Celebrities paid to wear their clothes,

By the money you and I work for,

Selling logos for a labourer’s ransom,

Keeping up with the Nikes next door.

 

Sponsorship makes the world spin,

The big roulette wheel of business,

In vogue companies back in the black,

The reds have no paid forgiveness.

 

To earn the badge of sponsorship,

People need to possess some skills,

Kicking a ball or writing this poem,

Or have a bum resembling two hills.

 

Billboards offer messages of hope,

Buy me and have all that you need,

For the hundredth one time deal,

Till the next time sales don’t succeed.

 

Tag lines and images fill our daily lives,

Desperate for our subconscious mind,

Getting under our skin to the brain,

Looking for a place to stop and unwind.

 

Getting you in a sponsored headlock,

One well targeted thought seeker,

Written in a tactical advert factory,

Ruthlessly spread through a speaker.

 

Airwaves and networks bombard us,

Sponsorship overload is coming near,

Every stitch on a football kit branded,

Every cog on a formula one car’s gear.

 

It’s becoming an overgrown jungle,

Can’t see the goods for the fees,

The white noise of advertisement,

Is blocking what shopping guarantees,

 

The simple pleasure of searching out,

Looking hard for that illusive bargain,

Discovering the sale of your lifetime,

Getting the deal only you could obtain.