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.