The car park is a futuristic battle ground,
cars fight to get a parking space,
the odour of petrol is overwhelming,
cars stalk the shoppers sneakily,
to get to the spot before their opponents,
it’s almost all-out war.
The other shoppers are hungry vultures,
they shriek and squawk and squabble,
the children beg their parents for the latest toys,
but the parents snap at their children,
too busy trying to over-power the others.
I watch in disbelief at the scene before me,
it’s like a zoo in here.
The shopping centre is a colourful hurricane,
I am pushed around in the chaos,
voices fight to be heard over the din,
everything around me is a blur as I am
dragged forward, moving with the crowd,
it’s a garish whirlwind of red white and green.
I hate Christmas shopping.