KonMari

The advertisers have spotted your modesty
and have laid the trap of promises:
to stave off sadness,
to reveal the problems you didn't know you had
along with their installment plan fixes.
And so you tap and click
to have gifts sent to yourself—
a little Christmas;
a pill for the misery.
It can be hard not to hoard
when unoccupied inches
feel like yards of empty space
and your loved ones have run off
with all the yarn you once spun.

[1](https://www.reddit.com/r/ocpoetry/comments/8e6bkw/_/dxt8ta4)

[2](https://www.reddit.com/r/ocpoetry/comments/8e0zho/_/dxt9zd1)


A poem I wrote just now after reading a few articles. I'm hoping to learn more and be more active regarding poetry, so I look forward to hearing any critique and bring a part of the community!