It’s not drugs and it’s not gambling and it’s not “the demon drink”
But it’s closeted and reticent and rueful don’t you think?
It’s the always on connection that finds many now devout
To regressive evolution, tuning in and dropping out
It’s a new form of anxiety; a virus of the mind
For interactive shutting down is irony defined
It’s the global conversation, any time and any place
Say whatever to whomever; just don’t say it face to face
Can I have your WiFi password? I need to go on-line!
I’ve a status needs approving, a request I must decline
And that friend that I knew briefly from the oh so long ago
Where and when and how and who and what? I feel I need to know!
There are boundless more cat videos that I’m sure I’ve not yet seen
There are meme’s and gif’s and funny lists from pointless to obscene
Somebody somewhere bought a hat and thinks that we should know
Some other someone sold a hat and also told us so
There are links and feeds and guarantees of ways we can improve
There are oh so many pictures that can never be removed
Consumeristic morsels breeding short attention spans
Now we only feel connected if we hold it in our hands
But it’s not too late to realise or veer the current course
Take stock of what we’re losing and evaluate the source
As for anti-social media, it’s time we made it clear
Let’s briefly lift our heads before we walk right off the pier
A poem about what seems to be the ever increasing dependence on the internet, specifically ‘social media’. The forum that requires no real interaction, that requires minimal humanity and is an addictive distraction.
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