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byron Johnson jr Sep 2019
One click, two click let's count them together.
One makes you happy but many makes you famous.
A house hold name is what everybody wants to be.
A face recognized by millions and a name worth it's weight in gold.
How many clicks can you get when honesty is all that is told.
How valuable are the memories once they are sold?
The price they would pay isn't paid in gold.
So why do we do it?
All it does is drive us insane.
Why do you care so much if others call you plain?
So you dance in many circles, You mimic birds and books.
You've had troubles in a space that comes straight from your looks.
Flipping through pictures of a story meant to lul people to sleep.
All for what instant gratification?
So many clicks from a stranger, I'd call that obsession.
An invasion of privacy but then again you let them.
Now all eye's are on you and all you have is aggression.
The bad out weighs the good.
It's currency is called depression.
We've spent all of the happiness on clicks and called it a profession.
As long as it fills our ears, the ones covered in LV.
They cost us so much and now we can't afford to lose.
Click three and click four look better than before.
Click five and click six and now your as big as bricks.
Keep counting you might make it someday.
You could be famous!
They already abhor you!

— The End —