Photo from Pixabay
A poem written in a lighter vein. No hidden messages.
Morning started with the aim to move forward,
Opened my cell phone and started whatsapp.
Floodgates opened with messages forwarded,
Everyone seems to be in a rush to share and educate,
What a treasure trove of repeats, must be weekend,
Decisions, decisions, to read or to be deleted.
Before I knew it hours passed reclining in bed,
Sore thumbs and nature’s call made me sad.
Oh, why did I open whatsapp, my bad.
Goal of moving forward, messages forwarded hijacked.
Fleeting Muse 