Below please find a poem that I read at last night's Dead Good Poets' open mic event. Please note that, whilst this event was themed around LOVE - this poem does not purport to be about LOVE. Please also note that, whilst this week's theme on the blog is for shapes - the best I can think to say here is that this poem fills a blog-shaped hole this Saturday morning.
However, rest assured that the sentiment behind the poem is as heartfelt as anything I've ever written.
You can stick your f***ing Farmville
Where the sun will never shine
I won’t waste my life on sh*t like this
I just don’t have the time.
I’m not saying that it’s dangerous
And I don’t wish you were dead
But instead of playing Farmville
Why not have a wank instead?
Why not read a book?
Why not talk to those you treasure?
Why not ignore your virtual farm
And find some real pleasure?
Maybe find a cure for cancer?
Maybe help to forge world peace?
Maybe fight the diaspora
That plagues the Lebanese?
Or do you really need some help
With harvesting your virtual crops?
Help for ploughing your virtual fields?
Assistance in the husbandry of your virtual livestock?
Cos if you really need my help
I think that’s cause for alarm
Cos you’re asking for assistance
To manage your own imaginary farm
So stick your f***ing Farmville
Where the sun will never shine
I don’t waste my life on sh*t like this
I just don’t have the time.
And stick your f***ing Coasterville
In the same dark place of fun
Fill it up with Angry Birds
Block it with a Temple Run
These stupid f***ing games
Really get right on my tits
So stop pestering me with your dumb requests
Cos I’m playing Bejewelled Blitz.
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