Go on, pamper yourself
Because you're worth it.
Reduce the signs of aging
Because you're worth it.
Don't let your beauty fade—
You deserve only the best,
So we pulled out all the stops,
Because you're worth it.
We have polyfilla for your
wrinkles,
Because you're worth it.
It's full of pentapeptides,
(That's science, Sweetie-poo)
They make your skin look - and feel - like new
Because you're worth it.
You know you're worth it.
Don't you?
We have wonderful Boswelox,
You've no idea what that. is either,
(Yes, we saw you coming—)
But it sounds good
And we created it just for you,
Because you're worth it.
You know you're worth it.
Don't you?
Have you got the message yet?
You. are worth it.
And you don't have to pay salon prices.
A mere twenty quid is all it costs.
A small price to pay,
When you're worth it.
So slap it on, Sweetheart,
Show the world you're worth it.
No! Don't listen to the news!
It only will depress you.
One in four children underweight?
Then three in four are fine!
It's not your problem.
Worrying will do no good
'Twill only cause more wrinkles so
It really isn't worth it.
The poor are always with us.
It says so in the Bible.
There's nothing you can do for them.
They surely are not worth it.
If they would only get a job,
The idle poxy shirkers,
Then they'd be worth it, just like you
And other well-paid workers.
The poor are. working, do they say?
For just two dollars a day?
Well then they're sleeping on the job.
Clearly they aren't worth it.
Consider soccer players can earn
Two thousand. pounds a day.
They really must be worth it.
Really, really. worth it!
Who's that whispering in your ear?
[That would be me, a poet.]
She's dropping poison in your ear,
Aren't you bright enough to know it?
['Twas much the same in Britain,
Two hundred years ago.
The rich lived in their mansions,
The poor in slums, you know.
[Not all folk
thought this was fair,
Dickens, Raikes, Barnardo,
So here, the living's better now—
Not perfect, no, you bimbo!
The wealth is spread more fairly but...
We're rich Victorian fellers,
Mill-owners, landed gentry,
To Third World shanty dwellers.
[But go ahead
and spend your dosh,
You've earned it fair and square,
You're worth your wage, the poor are not
So treat yourself, your face, your hair...
The sellers say you're worth it so
Don't fret about the poor
For out of sight is out of mind
They're easy to ignore.
[Resist the voice
inside your head
That says it isn't right—
To squander money on your looks
In poverty's despite.
When kids are starving, dying
For want of food —and meds
When their water is polluted;
And there's bugs inside their beds.
[Suppose you
feel a twinge of shame
As you beautify your skin?
Just pop a handful of small change
In the collectors' tin.
Or send a cheque to Pudsey Bear
(It's only once a year)
It's less important then your looks
But your conscience will be clear—
Won't it?
[Still think you're worth it...?]
N.B. this is mother and child, NOT grandmother and child.
This was written as a reaction to a number of advertising campaigns that appealed to one of our baser instincts - selfishness. Remember the mother who hid in her car, eating the yoghurt out of her little boy's lunch box? I shall not be buying Müller products again in a hurry...
Likewise Oxo cubes ever since a Christmas advert showing the family enjoying Christmas in front of the television with their presents while mother slaved away in the kitchen. The teenaged daughter was asked what Mum did at Christmas. The sneering response was:
"She just made the gravy."
Ha-bloody-ha!
Well, it lost you my custom.