At the start of my sentence in two thousand and seven
I misunderstood the gravity of the step that I was taking
Propelled by a wanderlust; a desire to join the throng
I dived into the waters though the current was far too strong
For a will as weak as mine to rebuff this new temptation.
Eleven years on, when real criminals have already been released
From the cells that they once occupied for fraud or being thieves
I remain here imprisoned by the person I became
When I signed up to Facebook and turned into a social media slave
Addicted to the constant additions in my daily newsfeed
I have lost the art of conversation, cut myself off from friends
With diminishingly broad horizons, I follow the latest trends
Foisted on us by algorithms
Society divided by deepening schisms
Polarisation now rules as various groups seek to achieve their ends
On a personal note, I know I am not the woman I was before
I used to phone my friends, often I would knock upon their door
Make arrangements to meet up with them, pop over for a cuppa
Watch a film, go clubbing or invite them round for supper
Activities now obsolete since enlisting as an online voyeur.
Currently I waste my days trekking through a barrage of posts
An eternal journeyman on the pathaway from those I love the most
Arguing with strangers about opinions that I hold true
Interacting with nobodies but never changing their points of view
A fruitless loss of precious time – a truly weighty cost.
And so I must release myself, the problem, I’m not sure how!
No more fear of missing out, the time to stop is now
You only live once is what they say or YOLO for short
Rubbernecking on others’ lives is no life, that’s for damn sure
But first I’ll check this poem’s likes, then I’ll take up my vow.
Poetry for Dullards 