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Haylin 2d
Social media companies
Swear it's you they want to please
They badly want for you to see
That they value privacy
And that there are several strictures
On who can see your posts and pictures.

You think your profile is secure
You're satisfied until you hear
That they sell your information
To advertising corporations.

Every post that you've spent time on
pictures, videos you had your eye on
They save it all for using later
And say "It's ONLY metadata!"

They as good as have a list
Of content that you can't resist
And knowing full well what you like
With custom ads they duly strike!
They desperately want you to keep scrolling
So they can see the money roll in.
And their ethics will be forfeited
So advertisers can be profited.
Skye 2d
Tap tap
Scroll scroll
Click click


Hit like
(they'd probably hit like back)

Excuse me how dare you unfollow me
(here, I'm unfollowing you too)

Um, I really do not like your content
(but I don't wanna lose a follower so there you go)

How did this photo get only 40 likes
(deleting it now)

How did she have so many followers
(all of her posts are *******)

Wanna have dinner?
(We can spend 2 hours sitting across each other while our hands are glued to our phones.)

Hey, want to meet up?
(So we can post social media stories to make it look like we're having a fun.)

Hi, how was your day?
(Oh wait, I'll just check on your feed.)

Hey, how'd everything go with that job interview you had today?
(Right, I'll just look at your FB status.)

Hi, do you ever wanna talk?
(But you know, on the phone, or like, only online?)

Connect to disconnect
Sketcher Dec 6
I'm constantly checking Snapchat and Instagram, and instantly decoding your posts like a cryptogram. In a millisecond my brain goes from using a gig of ram, to oozing out ten petabytes, like *******.
It won't slow down and I'm trying to stay chill, so I gotta down another bottle of pills. This also helps with the hunger that I'm trying to fill, going from starved, to full, to just feeling ill.
Nauseating dizzying feeling and I'm flustered, populating my stomach with crackers dipped in mustard, I don't like food, but I've started to wonder why my ribs hurt, might be the undying hunger.
I can't pull my eyes away from it as I slit upon my thighs and think of a beautiful ***** I'll never get, so I get lost in distractions to forget her. I've come to accept that this is the truth as I accept the cold and give her my sweater. Attempted controlled suicide at a park plus the letter. If she goes in for anything then I guess I will let her. But every time she touches me it lights a fuse that only activates when she's not around, only clutches me closely when there's nobody else in the vicinity inbound making me feel deader.
Poetry = Greatest Outlet
Leeli Barton Nov 30
you give
a lot more
likes on my selfie

than you
give to my
attentive words.

i get
a bit more
sense of my self-fee--

thank you--
now i know
what you preferred
Lumi Nov 14
She'll cry a little glitter,
Drips into her coffee.
Post it on Twitter,
Caption: "Do you really want me?"
A cry for help masked by pink lips and golden eyelids.
hollow Nov 13
lost in this world created on a screen,
I can't even see things that really matter to me,
I miss the rawness of your voice,
the pen to the paper,
now we have an abundance of choice.
I can type without looking,
I can manage five tabs while ordering food,
--whats cooking?
everything is so instant.
we are the impatient,
the damaged,
and the distant.
adaptation creates us to be dynamic,
but I can't seem to not panic.
you are high and dry,
but you're glorified.
you keep staring at your phone
I am just begging to know
why
You, Me
don't jello
we bow cup

noah 'ello

Teks nomor
nomor
nomor

noah 'ello

You, Me
don't jello
we bow cup

noah 'ello
is to raise a wall
back to its preexistence
to halt a
read-between-the-lines
brand of resonance;
a wall to protect
those constructed surfaces
from even being scratched.
Now, you feel
              an
                  empty sting

when your access to a
digital counterpart,
a modern-day version
of a person's cognition,
is denied.
It's as if their posts are
the only way left
where you could
actually
hear the things
that couldn't be spoken of;
where you could
feel the
immeasurable heartbeats
that could never be
projected
  and all of these
      illusions
          make you wish
              you talked more
                  in real life.
Flame Oct 30
When I'm bored
I like to go on pretty girls' profiles
And imagine what it must be like to be them

To post a picture
And get that many likes
To have their perfect hair
Perfect bodies
Perfect smiles
To be beautiful

Sometimes I feel pretty
But no one ever tells me I am

So I go to their profiles
To remind myself
Of what society can say
But refuses to say to me

And I conclude
That it must be
Because I'm
****
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