Hooked up to
social media life support.
Eyes bleeding
from the blue light
streaming into my skull. Drip feed
of likes, feeding that dopamine high.
Weeping at everyone’s lives,
all their highlights,
whilst looking at memories
of where they’ve been
and why.
The constant chatter
of churning brain matter.
Chasing numbers higher, higher.
Gve us more.
Mood is through the floor,
need to feel worthy.
These numbers unlock that door.
Give us more. Hit a thousand,
now need a thousand more.
The buzz is harder to acquire
dosage needs to be pumped higher.
Drip, drip, drip
The scrolling feed of cats,
and food, posts demanding
attention from you. Click bait news
It's no use. Addicted to this blue light view.
Slipping in and out of focus,
must speak their mind, on anything
and everything that occurs. They can't
just let this screen idle by
without clicking reply.
It might get more likes.
Numbers need to be high.
I think they are high
from some dodgy batch of drip feed supply.
Social media continually spews,
pointless photos, and quick fix news.
Comatose slouching
aching belly growling,
haven't fed in days.
Social media slaves.
Writing their own obituaries
to post on animated gif graves.
As they slowly wither away,
flowers that haven't
seen sunlight
in far too many days.
Thanks for reading
Please take a few moments
to check out my new book "Poetic Outlaw"
available from Amazon
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CVQ5F9K8/
No comments:
Post a Comment