“After the Death of Facebook”

Another provoking poem on social media

Before I Became a Great Writer

Life was hard
After the death of Facebook.
We couldn’t sleep.
We’d wake up every two minutes
In the middle of the night

And all through the early hours
Of the morning
Searching for the familiar
Flicker of that
Blue header

Forgetting that the medium
Has already collapsed.
We couldn’t eat properly.
Our hands would reach
Not for the fork

Or the knife
But for the phone on the table.
We failed to remember
That the site
Has long since ceased to exist.

We couldn’t have
A decent conversation
For we automatically
Dipped our hands
Into our pockets

To check for the notifications
That we will never again receive.
We couldn’t comprehend
The finality of its demise.
And then we began

To notice our surroundings
For the first time
In a decade.
The first thing I saw
Were the stacks of books, unread,

Lined against the walls
Of my bedroom.

View original post 180 more words

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To Loewe:

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