RIDDLE - GIVE ME SOME
how many lines will it take you to figure out what I am?
My dear it’s time for me to take a vacation
A retreat from your barrage of rapid fire notification
To be honest, I’m a little disappointed with our communication
You look marvelous. Absolutely fabulous and stunning
I can’t ignore how much more you are friendly, attractive, and cunning
You are older and more mature and most certainly bolder
Remember that beauty is in the eye of the beholder
You’ve captured the heart of my whole organization
With tricks for satisfaction and instant gratification
You’re shrewd, foxy, crafty, and clever.
Most of us fell hard with no doubts whatsoever.
But I always had this ambivalence and hesitation.
From experience with my ex’s, I felt this similar frustration
I’ll admit I’ve been seduced by your connection and flirtation
But frankly I’m concerned with your lack of consideration
I’m well aware of your tactics to hijack my attention
The firehose sprays dopamine in every channel and mention
It’s subtle, sophisticated and elegant with threading
Still I’m concerned with where all of this is heading
It’s workflow so thoughtfully and deliberately embedded
Which is exactly and precisely the thing that I dreaded
What has happened to your manners and etiquette?
I thought we were more than just subject and predicate
We’re either distressed in the wild west or else attacked in the outback
And you’ll do nothing to compensate for the structure you lack
You claim threads but I just have overflowing unreads
Which ones are still alive and which ones are dead?
Do you remember who was there or what even was said?
So my inbox is zero, you’re such a great hero
Really you think you’re the greatest thing ever since sliced bread?
You just moved the pinging and ringing somewhere else instead
I get nothing, no conclusion or closure after I’ve read
No end by design? No feelings of being on top or ahead
You think I’ll sleep better? Will I ever make it to bed?
Bushwhacking threads as a sport or productivity hack?
Surely you were joking, you were just talking smack
There are no keyboard shortcuts to distinguish the signals from noise
Made in California, these are tools and not toys?
At least it’s not plastic from these silicon boys
With their advances in collaboration . . . OMG, LOL, Oh the joys!
It’s my fault for slipping down the rabbit hole
It’s not your fault, all the minutes you stole
I was the one that slipped down the abyss of the scroll
I can’t remember where I started but I did have a goal
Youl say I’m being unfair and unkind?
It’s my fault when I search and don’t find
You look so smashing but you’re not well designed
It’s a mess with just stress, fragments and thoughts unrefined
How can I make sense of any outcomes agreed or defined?
Do you have any conscience? Do you care? Do you mind?
When you see I’m there, you always expect a reply
And if I don’t, I should have some excuse to supply
Or you might be offended or put off don’t deny
The pressure to keep up appearances is really high
Well, I took you off my phone but you are still on my mac
If we can reconcile our differences, I might put you back
Until then my friend, until we get back on track
You’re not what I need before I go hit the sack
Your name is so deceiving. It’s just totally whack
You know how I feel, I think you’re like . . .