Holistic health shops of pseudo-psycho babble,

buzzwords swarm in all this mental prattle.

Crowds of gibbering fools with an axe to grind,

All chanting their mantras in perfect time.

"Center your chi," they moronically drone,

While clutching crystals of power overblown.

"Transcend your woes, embrace your inner light,

No, don’t vomit! Just like us, you’ll be alright."

But beneath karmic guise this cosmic disgrace,

Lurking self-absorbed twaddle, badly misplaced.

For these mentalist gurus of the Instagram age,

It's less about wisdom, more about a stage.

Wrapped in robes of floppy, frivolous flair,

They preach serenity in their designer underwear.

Yet, behind closed doors, rank stupidity churns,

refusals to accept what science has long since discerned.

In the echo chamber of their febrile minds,

There’s plenty of space for their latest finds.

Mindfulness apps, special chai and yoga mats,

anything expensive and daft can fill those gaps.

But while they chant of inner peace,

Personal energy grows for a cleansing release.

For in this festering, farting, self-reflection,

They've found a new form of self-protection.

So to this hippy quackery, this buzzword band,

Lost in the haze of expensive psycho-sensitive brand.

For while they blabber of well-being and healing light,

Reality, long faded, is now out of their sight.