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A variation on "Changes" by David Bowie in the key of internet
You know how many times we looked at the screen
hoping we could see ourselves in there?
and you know how we never even caught a glimpse?
Still don't know what we were expecting.
We were a little too beautiful to sell our souls
to some weird carnival mirror,
and, anyway, you can't instastory a heart,
no matter how hard some might try.
However, every now and then
I can't help but look again at that screen
and just wonder how the clowns
might see the stranger.
Do they know that time may not change them,
but that they can't trace time?
J Robert Fallon III
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