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"clickbait" poems
I once felt like words gave me power Like they gave my quiet shell of a self a leg to stand on Now I feel like I have none left to speak, to write I've been drained of verbs and left broken -- immobile My adjectives fall soft and simple, even the deaf don't pretend to hear It's strange Being so far removed from the one you called yourself I don't know what there is left for me to say It's like being a young musician on stage And people have slowly stopped cheering as they realized You have no more tunes left to play Yet I've stood frozen, stuck, despite myself I'm waiting for them to come back The words The crowds The self that I used to know That I thought I did know I haven't a clue to where they've left, to where they'll go But I hope that they find it The messages they seek I can no longer provide them My inkwell bone dry My spirit missing it's former vibrance, now dully meek They once called me wicked I thought it ironically sweet That for someone so bitter Many worshiped me
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Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 10:59 PM UTC
Is WickedHope Dead? [Not Clickbait!]
Clickbait dangles low the fish gather raucously always the victim
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 12:28 AM UTC
Clickbait
I wrote this haiku Just to prove a point in words: No one reads these days.
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Jul 5, 2025
Jul 5, 2025 at 5:38 AM UTC
clickbait
Deceit is Woke made clickbait. A punchline void of pugilism. Manufactured. Puffed. & vision ill-corrected. Poisoned. Children so woke now; Diaspora are sleepwalking, Suffering Sleeplessness; An insipid insomnia; Waking others to death. Eyes wide-open (fili-fili) Hoodwinked in a depth of light; Dark angel glory. Bane. Mediocre. Hidden. Malignant mult-I-media. Woke? © Qwey.ku 30th November MMXXI አሁን በኢትዮጵያ አቆጣጠር 26 Kislev 5782
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Nov 30, 2021
Nov 30, 2021 at 1:16 AM UTC
Lifecycle?
i am thirsty for all your blood, milk, and honey sweet and thirst quenching like a mosquito let me seep into your veins and take everything you have to offer thunder rolls above a sweet death kiss waits for you trust me, not clickbait
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Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC
thirsty (haiku)
In our world, it's hard To tell truth from the lies When everyone just says Whatever people will buy When TV creates Unreal reality They compromise truth For what people want to see Honest, serious programs Are frequently unnoticed So reporters only show What clickbait puts in focus But I have hope That this problem will be fixed For there are still those who care For news in a reality midst
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Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
Unreal Reality
they all want to think they have qualities that will entice me dancing beggars throwing text into the air and hoping it falls in pleasing shapes watching my snapstory and hoping i notice trickling through my internet stream laughing at my antics as if they know me begging superiority by the green sword next to their name thinking that my biggest problem is clickbait that they can just time out and make disappear. i entertain you but it's not for you it's for me.
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Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
over exposed
By Arcassin Burnham Don't think that your alone for one second, There's a world out there to explore, you don't know about it, Don't have to enter a sequence, Just close your eyes and breathe, there's no need to doubt it. Don't think that your alone for one second, There's a world out there to explore, you don't know about it, Don't have to enter a sequence, Just close your eyes and breathe, there's no need to doubt it, There's no need to ever hate, There's no need to ever fake, Love and hate will fuse with destruction i hope you can't relate, Sincerely your mistake of believing that clickbait, Don't you feed the beast, just know your worth in this world to iterate, The music, the food, the equality is all ******* up, no apologies, Left to wonder where the free thinkers will rewrite their discographies, The world will be coming to an end, no time for thinking, In the end you will decide what's real and fake in reality.
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Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 12:37 PM UTC
An Alternate Reality
Nothing is constant; Neither my sense of satisfaction — or loathing. Does that bring comfort? A yearning? Distraction; from and liberation! If Shakespeare were here now, what would be his wisdom, In the times of 'Trending' like fashion; Would 'star-crossed lovers' be a clickbait sensation?
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May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 5:07 PM UTC
Shakespeare once said...
DON'T FALL for the FANCINESS of a FLASHY ADVERTISEMENT, CLICKING ON IT may be DAMAGING, and bring to you DISAPPOINTMENT. It may be a CLICKBAIT, SO, You BETTER BE AWARE, BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE, It might be a TROJAN VIRUS or MALWARE. So, just BE WEARY of this CLICKBAIT THEORY IF IT'S TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE, Then AVOID CLICKBAIT IN A HURRY. If the ADVERTISEMENT seems FEASIBLE THEN THERE'S NO NEED TO WORRY!! B.R. Date: 9/15/2024
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Sep 15, 2024
Sep 15, 2024 at 9:26 PM UTC
CLICKBAIT
Is it poetry, Or is it a clickbait?
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 7:14 AM UTC
Short Poem
"Fake news, fake news!" The boy cried fake news every time a story failed to paint him in the most positive possible light, neglected to deify him in the most sunny way. He denounced, decried and denigrated reporters who would check with two more sources if their moms claimed to love them the way their ink-stained forebears did. He attempted to discredit truth-seekers who actually had stricter codes of ethics than doctors, cops, actuaries, any profession really. The callow boy cried fake news so much that his most loyal followers shouted “fake news” out car windows at TV reporters reporting on alligators that crossed the street, fired drive-by potshots at newsrooms out of sheer lunacy. The boy cried fake news so much that he did protest too much, that his cries sounded fake, that his credibility strained against the press corps who produced backing documents, audio recordings and multiple sources. The boy cried fake news so much it degenerated into cliche and ceased to mean anything at all. The boy cried fake news at a time when the news felt financial pressured into running clickbait articles like “Eight Hanukkah Lessons I Learned from Smoking a Menorah **** or the “12 Most *** Days of Christmas.”
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 2:11 AM UTC
The Boy Who Cried Fake News
I hunger for fame As most do I want to share my voice And make the world a better place But how can I share a genuine thought If fame is born of   Clickbait and  emotional charge   "debates" used to sland e r ha tef ul words thrown a ro u nd to       g rab people's ey es and h e a r t s    as gu lli ble as they a re         used to t e a r    a p a  r   t                   a  n   d         t   a k   e     the  r  u  b  b  l  e              to bui  ld a  name            and a legacy
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Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 10:56 PM UTC
Fame
Lawrence Hall [email protected] Dispatches for the Colonial Office                                The Daily Mail’s New Profits Plan Go away, Daily Mail.  Go away, Daily Mail. I’m not going to spend any money on you I know that your clips are sweet But my money clip is mine to keep And my credit limit insists that I must be true When you're demanding like this You’re really easy to resist Go away, Daily Mail I won’t pay, Daily Mail You’re just a clickbait away, Daily Mail App delete, Daily Mail I will not beg you to stay Legal stuff about “Go Away, Little Girl,” a sweet, charming song: Written by: Gerry Goffin, Carole King Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 9:30 AM UTC
Go Away, Daily Mail
You've heard of clickbait? What lures you in? The things with all the colors? What's all just sin? That's her And everything she is It's all just... Clickbait She puts makeup on everyday Makes herself look all nice and pretty Innocent and pure But its just a lure She will pretend to love you And you'll love her But in her mind... She wants you to cry. She will take you in And kick you out Because under that mask Is a demon of guilt You thought she was just evil? A girl isn't born that way She does that only Because it's happened to her Over.. and over Over... and over Over... and over And over again And she's done the same She is stuck in a loop And she can't get out She is scared of her self doubt Her face is pretty Innocent and pure But my darling... She is pure gore
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May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
Her Face
Wing tipped tongues Utter madness as their wings fly away. It's art. Like a trash bag floating down an empty street. Empty words float and circulate the masses. Consumables. We eat media, satisfied by garbage. Wiping the latest episode of Tiger King off our chins, We chomp on clickbait desserts. The writers, thinkers, and philosophizers starve. Searching for anything with substance they revisit old watering holes. The marrow has been ****** from literature, The cave is too real to re-enter, But there is a rumble from within. Weak but present. The uprising is upon us! Writers, Thinkers, and Philosophizers, rise! Rise and pluck the birds from the sky, steal their wings and soar. Soar across time and spread the wisdom that has been bestowed upon you.
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Dec 26, 2020
Dec 26, 2020 at 5:51 PM UTC
Soar