The Advert Family whatever will be;
With all toothpaste smiles and plenty for Tea.
Have the most Modern of Homes being shiny and clean;
No hint of Life's Buckshot will ever be seen.
For the table does strain every Christmas Day;
With the weight of the food they all put away,
And buckets of drink from the very best vines;
As money is no object for the ‘Commercial' kind.
Parading on Holiday out in the Sun;
With annoying cute kids and ‘Miss World' for a Mum.
To the latest in cars and clothes set to match;
All distortions of life they daily dispatch.
Their ‘Liberace' smiles and slim bodies implore;
A dialogue of speech from the rank Stable floor.
For the Advert crowd it must be said;
Are the ‘Inaccurate Conception' where all bunkum is bred.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem