Last weekend I gave a poetry recital for our Assamese harvest festival celebrations Magh Bihu. I perfomed two poems, one had a couple of stanza's in Assamese that I sang. The second one really provoked some thoughts, which went like this;
In a rush to update your status.
There is a hook,
called facebook.
In a rush,
to update your status.
Your dog got a fright,
what you ate last night.
Feeling ill,
use facebook as a pill.
Your flashy car,
will take you so far.
Flying high
but living a lie.
Your Prada bag!
Is just a rag.
making amends
for having no friends.
You dined at the Ritz,
secretly in bits.
Jumping on a bike,
to get a like.
To celebrate the material
is so trivial.
A small mind
is the state of mankind.
This attention
has no retention.
Social media
has made us needier.
In a rush
to update your status.
In a rush to update your status.
There is a hook,
called facebook.
In a rush,
to update your status.
Your dog got a fright,
what you ate last night.
Feeling ill,
use facebook as a pill.
Your flashy car,
will take you so far.
Flying high
but living a lie.
Your Prada bag!
Is just a rag.
making amends
for having no friends.
You dined at the Ritz,
secretly in bits.
Jumping on a bike,
to get a like.
To celebrate the material
is so trivial.
A small mind
is the state of mankind.
This attention
has no retention.
Social media
has made us needier.
In a rush
to update your status.
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