It fogs my thoughts and ruins my sleep.
I now count likes because I’m the sheep.
Powerless for a day and I went insane,
I think the web’s controlling my brain.
I spend many hours checking the news.
Then I research the reasons for my blues.
The puzzled web of opinions never ends.
And I’ve games galore so I don’t need friends
I can take lots of photos no one will see,
recording things that were important to me.
I can compose emails and send a text,
then constantly wait for what comes next.
I can phone in my car with maps on the screen.
The music’s unlimited and videos seen,
I can cast to TV and see it large.
But I need a break; it’s time for a charge.
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.