I find social media guilty.
Of crimes against humanity.
It has stolen old fashioned creativity.
Manufactured fake empathy.
Hidden our sociability.
Created an obsession with food photography.
Filtered our real truth.
And our facial blemishes.
It’s made us crush candy.
Poor ice buckets over our heads.
Write cryptically (Inbox me hun).
Over and over and over again.
It’s turned idiots into trolls.
Made a star of the hashtag.
And it celebrates the talentless.
I’m posting this poem as a reminder.
Of what we are.
And as a warning.
Of what we’ll become.
Feel free to like it though.
To comment and say that I’m great.
Click on the icon for retweets or shares.
Give me a follow.
Send me a friend request.
DM me if you want.
I’m always around.
Hiding from reality.
Crying out for attention.
Just like you.
My name is Phill Slater. I’m a forty something wannabe poet/writer from Northern England. I don’t have a particular niche as I tend to just write whatever I’m feeling at any given moment. Hopefully this means if you take time to look through my work, you’ll find something you like. I post poems, short stories and all sorts of other nonsense on my website: My journey from here to there.