MODERN RICHES (a poem)
Likes are not a limited resource.
Yet, you withhold them.
Doling them out like tokens.
Tickets to a concert no one will attend.
A flag to say hello.
Take a look at me.
Train the system.
Each notification,
Pavlov’s modern bell.
But in a world of abundance,
we fight for what is worthless.
Mere signals that we matter.
A quick hit and then a fade.
Hold them close.
Hoard them.
While the rich hold all the wealth.
The rest of us battle
for empty scraps.
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