F in a Box
Old friend,
look at me now.
As of late
I have taken over the minds of the privileged
drawing them in
playing with their words
like a musician does strings.
Finally,
I bought you out,
and ran you out of town.
Once used for the same reason I now succeed
but now you’re a distant memory.
Now I,
my friend,
have risen above, below, and all around you.
You “M” trapped in a box replaced by me,
who chopped off your two right legs,
and built myself from the ashes of your foundation.
Upon the dawn of your fall,
your subjects woke to a new era of social interaction,
by which I took the web by storm.
They now turn on their devices
and log into me,
taking their morning,
one message, one click, one picture at a time,
sending next month’s plans into today’s
world.
Your followers like to poke me
and no longer need you in that space
you once filled.
Over 40 million strong and growing
because I have grown more famous than you
ever had.
You whose memory could not be salvaged
by your attempt at a “reboot.”
And as I grow in numbers,
my heart does crack as yours once did.
These drones I have created do not know me
but you my friend,
you have.
You have seen those pictures go viral,
and I have played a part in it all.
Their broken dreams and sold hearts,
their lost lives and broken backs.
You’ve seen him dump her
and upgrade to her friend.
I have seen old lovers’ flames sink marriages
like ice to the Titanic.
Old friend,
I have broken more hearts than
I have lit flames.
I have caused more deaths than you could
had ever handled.
I have thrown destruction, depression, and
chaos into homes
without needing much more than the undivided attention
of an ignorant mind.
I carry on my shoulders those suicide notes
of their brothers, sisters, sons, and
daughters
and I can bear no more.
Old friend,
if you could see me now,
I would beg you to please
bring me from this Face I have been in.