NaPoWriMo 2023, Day 11
Today we were prompted to write a poem inspired by something we had overhead. I took a branch line on this one and suck with the idea of what can happen today when things are “overheard”.
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
The words left her lips as the train departed the station.
Where did they go, I wonder?
To meet with Harold Wood?
Or to collect a passport in Pimlico,
Then take the royal purple line to Heathrow,
To board a plane and go….
Where? Who knows?
On slipping from her lips maybe they tip-toed
Down the road, tucked in the ears
Of some old toad, to then be retold,
Sold on the open market as “not very old”.
Worthless words traded as gossip gold.
Mere snippets of transient discourse,
To be twisted, tortured into words
To make clickers curse, and much worse.
On Instagram, Twitter and Tik Tok,
Where the currency is maim and mock,
Where current conversation is fake shock,
All born out of a viral bastard birthing block.
I don’t believe what I just heard
Cries the digital mockingbird.
“Why would she say that?
“It’s hard to conceive”
Say the posters of crippled lines,
Destined to deceive.
Loose lips may sink ships,
But digital lies,
They destroy lives
Missives & Musings 