By Michael W. Raley
I scroll through this endless feed,
Not coming across a thing I need
To know from this informational barrage,
Which just piles up like junk in the garage.
All I hear and see is white noise,
A way to pass the time,
A distraction to detract me
From what needs to be done.
I ask myself the question,
“What am I looking for on here?”
Whatever it is, I haven’t found it yet
And I doubt I ever will.
However, I go back because it’s easy
And it’s free,
Unless I count the cost of time wasted
And the life that passes me by.