If Social Media Disappeared

By Andrew R. Duckworth

There would be wailing and gnashing,
A fit worthy of the nearest daycare
By nearly every twenty-something
Who made a ‘living’ being outraged.
All of that work training the thumbs,
Never to pick up a hammer,
Never to work with a shovel,
Never to do something useful.
Hell might break open in the street,
Because, God forbid, we must
Begin living apart from our
Greatest comfort: fantasy.

We spent so much time playing pretend
We’ve forgotten how to be a friend.

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