Your whinings, your weepings, your woes
Your family, your friends, your foes
are nothing but bytes to their news,
are nothing but a veil for their views.
When they have no esteem for the alive
When they have no dignity for the dead
they dig around your present and past
they tear your life to chewable shreds
For them, your life, was nothing but a spectacle
For them, your death, is a career miracle.
For they get to speak how much you meant
For they get to interpret all that you dreamt.
You are nothing but another breaking news,
Your woes are used to boost their channel views
When you were happy, they burned
When you left, they act concerned.
Who are they? The media, the brokers of news
the hyenas, the vultures, the rotting corpse who chews.
Shut off your telly, stay off the net
Find your happiness, in the people you've met.
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