Internet addiction comes in many forms.
Some quite explicit but most fit the norms.
My own peccadillo doesn’t seem so very bad.
It often makes me happy and rarely makes me sad.
I fantasize of beauty, this I will admit.
I love shape and form with a dash of wit.
Though some look unnatural with parts all askew,
their faces slapped together are seemingly taboo.
Pages scroll before my eyes as I stare in awe.
Wasted time’s a problem but not against the law.
Ads fill my mailbox, an embarrassment to see.
Each has a pitch but nothing’s ever free.
Though I’ve spent no money or caught some disease,
my constant oohs and aahs can cause some unease.
I may have my issues but certainly I’m no louse.
I’m just very anal looking for a house.