Too long I’ve lain here, unremarked, in quiet obscurity.
No more: I want my fifteen minutes too. It’s time for me
To take this show out on the road, break through these prison bars,
And see my name in lights, high places, headlines, and the stars.
I realise I’ve been selfish, blinded by a foolish pride:
I’ve kept my movements secret, locked my private thoughts inside
When I should have given freely, told my guard to take a hike,
And made Friends of perfect strangers. Turns out all you need is Like.
Am I so high-and-mighty I can stand aloof, declare
I’m remaining off the radar; that I have no wish to share
My whereabouts, with whom, and what I’m doing, day and night?
This is the way to go. A billion people must be right.
Just pick a snappy user name, sign on the dotted line.
A keystroke here, a mouse-click there, and all the world is mine.
Maybe the moment’s come to blow my cover, show the light
Beneath that bushel. Brother, can you spare some dynamite?
Can I persuade myself my life’s a story fit to tell?
If so, I’ll lay the charges, light the fuse – then run like hell.
People keep telling me I should join Facebook, Twitter and the like. They’re probably right, too, but as this poem suggests, I’m yet to be enticed by the whole social-networking brouhaha. I can see the potential benefits, of course, and I’m sure that, to some degree, I’m cutting off my nose to spite my face by staying out of it. I daresay I’ll surrender to the inevitable one day, but I’m not going down without a fight! All thoughts and suggestions welcome. N.