I want more, so I need more

The more I have, the more I want.
The newest, latest, devices & gadgets haunt.
Everytime, I feel, "Yes! This is the thing!
That will make my life easier, happier and get my jobs done in a wink."

On an impulse, I buy the stuff.
Dreaming of the luxury in the life after.
The product arrives,
With no bounds to my joys.

The beauty unravels before
My very eyes.
The novelty fades,
And expectations die.

This wasn't such a great idea
After all, I think.
Never mind, sometimes we make
The wrong decisions.

I'll be more careful next time
And not waste a penny or dime.
Oh but just look at that new thing!
Don't you think it's fascinating?

This looks truly commendable
So practical and functional!
It is an investment and not an expense
I convince myself to go ahead and spend.

What I do not realise at all
Is the vicious cycle that goes on and on.
Getting more things and spending more money
Takes me nowhere, honey!

Keep it simple and keep it straight.
The easier I go, the lesser the weight
Of piling stuff and rising expenses
That only multiply my tensions.

The good old broom and old towel for the mop
My easy washing machine and the old gas stove
Serve their purpose well and don't cost me a fortune
Neither to purchase nor to maintain!

So does the phone I took a year ago
And the TV set that will anyway have my shows
I don't need GBs on wifi either
Mobile data is doing much better!

I know the story gets too long,
But my dear friend, do hear me out!
Before you spend even a penny,
Ask yourself do you REALLY NEED it?

Death

Fear grips my heart
I know not, what the future holds,
Whether this is the end
Or the start.

Death, they say, is inevitable.
Then why does it scare us?
Why it causes all the misery & despair?
Or threaten to turn memories into fables?

As time ticks, the body melts away,
Bit by bit, towards what, know none.
We run and run and run.
Nonetheless, there is no escape.

One day you know
You too are old
'Cause all who saw your childhood
Are gone.

And you're still stuck
In the same rut
Which was left behind
By those whom death struck.

Wonder why then
We make plans
Thinking 'Someday I shall...'
Because someday has no definition.

Why is it so difficult
To live in the moment?
To do today what we plan for later?
To simply be a child, and not an adult?