To all the lonely people out there,
Surely your world seems so clear,
This one’s for you,
Which you’ll find so true.
Life’s a drama; Well Sara had two-Real and Reel,
Which had no seal,
Reel gave optimism,
Real stood as glass prism.
Had faith in self worth,
But quantified its girth,
Committed to other’s hippodrome,
I call it a Phantom Vibration Syndrome.
Both the buttons fitted onto screen,
Checking out who’s to extreme,
Some are cynical
Few post biblical,
WOW! The caption is lit,
The bedside book asking to please look at it.
She begs, “Just one more time”,
Can’t Stop, not a crime.
The Insta pink circle was annoying,
Social currency was the people following.
The urge to gaze at notification,
So as to note the proliferation.
In this Economy of attention,
Selfies are a sensation.
Dopamine boosts with a like,
But goes down, seeing the other hike.
The caption “Ruffled hair & Liner”, was the last post of the day,
Well see, what a comment say.
“Looks like hairy coconut syncs with Californian grape”,
Ouch, that’s a subtle rape.
Post dinner was mortifying,
All subsequent shooted comments flying.
Morale in despair,
Life isn’t rare.
I ushered inside the room in a gown,
Saw the paper lying down.
Sara wrote “I Quit”,
Bootless was the doctor’s kit.
I am Julie Sebastian, Sara’s Mother,
I beg “Just one more time” rather.
Her ‘behind the scenes’ with other’s reel highlight juxtapose,
Mean views enclose,
Killed my daughter Sara,
In lure of that filter Tiara.