The Charge of the Facebook 200

Its been a while, I know. I'm sorry. I haven't felt up to writing lately. Why a post now? Well, there's a story behind that......

Like most of you Generation Y-sters, I recently signed up for a social networking site. Two actually, Friendster and Facebook. I had no idea joining these networking sites would unleash the Pandora's Box that it did.

Since my inception, I have received no less then 180 emails from said sites, telling me of your birthdays, friend's requests, application adverts, etc... Not exactly the "200" as I mentioned in the poem below, but close enough for the purpose I should think. Anyway, it probably might reach the 200 mark before my next post at the rate its coming in, (and at the rate I blog too).

It has rendered my gmail not completely useless, just more difficult to use. I now have to keep my eye out for possible important messages, through all the junk that has saturated my first page for the week.

I know you mean well, and maybe I'm just a little old fashioned, but really! Whatever happened to good old face-to-face interaction?

Anyway, here you go, my latest poem. Enjoy!


The Charge of the Facebook 200

Hour by hour,
Surging and flooding,
All in my Inbox,
Came the 200.
From Vincent at No.1,
To Trisha when the day is done,
All into my Inbox,
Came the 200.

Friendster gets tossed aside!
“You won’t be forgotten,” I lied.
Don’t like the adverts beside,
They are distractive:
Happily, they send me mail,
“Stop!” says I, but to no avail,
Fought my SPAM blocker tooth and nail,
Into my Inbox,
Came the 200.

Sharing their hopes and dreams,
Favorite stars on the movie screens,
I don’t know what it means!
Invites and comments and,
Responses galore:
Their’s not to pause and blink,
Their’s not to stop and think,
Their’s just to click the link!
Into my Inbox,
Came the 200.

Friendster to the right of them,
MySpace to the left of them,
Hi5 in the face of them,
Local and global.
Shouted at by family,
Bravely they let it be,
Into my Inbox,
With strength and energy,
Came the 200.

News feed to the right of them,
Photos to the left of them,
The Wall at the front of them,
Sparkled and shined:
Hassled by crappy taste,
No, I don’t wanna see your face!
Poking the human race.
Whizzing through the Internet-
Words spread in lowercase,
Harbingers of the future!
Sent the 200.

When will the mail decrease?
When shall the barrage cease?
All the world wondered.
No one can say for sure,
Sadly, they shall endure.
Irksome 200!