The Golden Trap

Later that same day.

The liquid lunch

Has become the coffee morning

As the breakfast meeting

Stretches into brunch.

Young school run mums

Sit with well fed babies

On their still trim tums,

While they laugh and share grumbles

As junior tumbles

And crawls on the floor,

Making a crabwise dash

For the open door.

And the noise drones on,

The peace of the day

Long gone,

Punctuated now

By the smug laughter

Of the middle aged men

In business suits,

Discussing the price

Of a range of fruits,

They plan to display

At the front of the store.

‘The first thing to be seen

When customers step through the door.’

It is a natural reaction,

To bring the best out of people

It makes them feel healthy,

And less likely

To be cautious

Further down the isle,

When they fall into the

Golden trap,

Of Sugar salt and fat,

And say with a smile.

‘What’s so wrong with that?’

Believing all the while

They made their own choice,

Without any influence

From the pin striped suit

With the loudest voice.