Iron railings, Facebook's bleating,
YouTube's trailing, productivity's fleeting--
I'm down the tunnel and maze again,
Far away from what I wake up to every day--
In my mind my visage is not plain,
Away from reality my creativity never went astray.
Blood fills my temples,
skidding iron my soul has stained,
When I reach the bottom of the stairwell,
My papers still need writing, my bank account's still drained;
When your Facebook Feeds your demon,
every day is just the same.
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