Shopping Spree

In the core of a city, where the lights won't ever blur,

Where the air murmurs electric, and fortunes are made,

I step into the realm, the sanctuary of spend,

A world without borders, where drifts go on forever.

The entryways open up, an inviting call,

The life sized models murmur from windows and walls,

"Draw nearer, draw nearer, there's such a huge amount to see —

In the place that is known for overflow, enjoy and feel free."

A stream of individuals, their countenances land,

Soaked in the shine of a world gleaming and splendid,

They float with their trucks, their crates heaped high,

Every path a commitment, a gala for the eye.

Lines upon columns, loves all in show,

From scents to dresses, from contraptions to mud,

Shoes lined in sparkle, belts smooth as night,

Every thing a gem, each sticker price a chomp.

I float through the passageways, every rack another land,

With a Visa glimmering in the center of my hand.

I pluck and I pick, without hesitation —

Each buy a rush, every impulse immediately purchased.

The fitting rooms murmur with calm joy,

1,000 reflections, each entirely right.

The mirrors are caring, they guarantee me effortlessness,

Changing my reality with a well-fitted trim.

Also, goodness, the fragrances! They murmur in air,

The fragrance of the night, of sentiment and care,

One shower and I'm drifting, a sovereign of the evening,

A sovereign of scent, a star shining brilliantly.

I wait in corners, where knickknacks flourish,

Little charms and delicate scarves, all flawlessly wound.

Their varieties and surfaces, so delicate, so sweet,

Every one a delicate reverberation of wealth first class.

The sales registers ring, a tune so sweet,

The ring of the plastic, the tap of the feet.

The sacks develop heavier, the delight duplicates,

Each buy a triumph, a cutting edge prize.

However, as sunsets and the stores begin to close,

A shadow creeps in where the elation sparkles.

Did I really want everything, or would they say they were simply dreams?

Temporary like residue, trapped in sparkling pillars.

The binge was a tornado, a bewildering high,

However, presently there's a murmur, a voice inquiring as to why.

In the heap of packs, in the sheen of new shoes,

Is there something I've acquired, or only something to lose?

The excitement of the purchase, the surge of the pursuit —

It blurs like a flash, disappearing without follow.

The realm of expenditure might amaze and sparkle,

Yet, some place peacefully, I begin to dream.

Maybe the genuine fortune, the one that will endure,

Isn't found in the paths or the motivation cast,

In any case, in snapshots of quietness, where wants are free —

A heart not available to be purchased, but rather for something to be.