Screen AddictionA Poem by michelleScreen addiction It’s a young affliction A life in fiction Restriction. Masquerading as freedom Photoshopped Into a perfect Instagram shot. Sold as real life No strife Just yachts and what not the illusion of a level playing field Privilege filter enabled Money everywhere but never mentioned Its crude to brag - plus It’s not how you sell the bag To some intoxicated teen wanting to Live the dream That you sell From your cell, phone By Instagramming your peach Of an a*s covered in sand From some tropical island In a yoga stance Hanging from the arm of an unbelievably Hairless man. Straight into my home You go Upstairs to my ten year old Who sits alone On her phone With a screen addiction And lives A life in fiction. YouTube tutorials Take her on a tour how to contour So she can be like you- And while she’s there she learns some auto-play lessons For free too. No search required its surplus to requirements Although she didn’t ask you might like to her know - If you film abuse then it’s just a prank if you have no clothes on then you’re just a skank, If you want to be a pop star then you better get skanky... Free flesh flaunted for feminism - apparently. yeah if you earn £100k a click I can see how it might be empowering but not if you're just some impressionable div. Then you're just a vulnerable kid with no clothes on posting pictures on the internet For every Tom Dick and Harry to wank on without consent. Screen shot, on the spot, frozen in time, immortalised, forever mortified. If you don't listen to me then you’re open To scrutiny from behind the key board - a warrior Your body -their property They become An authority on how it Is supposed to look On how well your eyebrows are plucked declare that you’re just asking to get fucked Some even wish you were dead. But don’t worry it’s not bullying it’s just trolling I’m just lolling you up The internet omits intent Chill out yolo Wow your such a blow Delete Unfollow Write a tweet straight into my home you creep Upstairs to my ten year old Who sits alone With a screen addiction And lives a life in fiction. And I can’t protect her I've let her feast I've forced a famine I've made her earn it told her she doesn't deserve it I've used parental filters but still it infiltrates I've changed password banned buzz words from searches I’ve tried abstinence But you know what their say about fond hearts. Tried to fill the void with board games Even dusted the books off Started drawing cartoons of an afternoon Took her to a Loch A real Scottish one So we could just sit and stop the clocks For a bit. Turn the pressure valve off Release the steam Forget the unattainable dreams Shoved down her gullet at every click. I checked her Google history once Do you know what she’d asked? ‘What is the meaning of life?’ A real existential dilemma She’d stared at the void that Google provided And she filled it With a real question asked it for comfort, For a purpose For a reason. Google replied with Myriad links to things that make life worth living like the latest 'must have bag' fresh off Instagram. © 2017 michelle |
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1 Review Added on February 19, 2017 Last Updated on February 26, 2017 Tags: screen addiction, poetry, draft, free verse Authormichellechester, cheshire, United KingdomAboutHi. I am a writer from the North of England who is here for all the help, feedback and advice she can possibly get! 2017 is the year that I vow to take myself more seriously as a writer and that st.. more..Writing
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