My hands were free
I wrote letters with glee
Mostly to Jimmy and Jemmy
The postman was ever early
Then came phones and the internet
With their addiction like the cigarette
Everything took a new dimension
From studies to communication
Nothing remained secret
Maybe I meant to say sacred🙂
Nudes and violence in the open
Phony love:all sorts of deception
Too many journalists
And televangelists
Most of which are bogus
Only doing it for bonus
Daily my hands weary
My eyes teary
But my mind won't let me rest
Because on it this addiction nests.
©kennie
K