Mass Confusion

We’re all glued to the tube,

Watching some tattooed dude acting rude,

Faking mood swings and manufactured feuds—It’s crude, but we approve,

Too tired to move, in this endless loop.

It’s all good, but misunderstood.

You’re in the mood to boo,

But choose to snooze—nothing new. Truth is taboo,

Passed through Bluetooth, from youth to youth,

Distorted in memes and auto-tuned truths.

What a tangled World Wide Web we weave

When first we practice to virtually perceive.

America was told it could achieve

Any dream, if only it dared to believe—And never leave.

But dreams got spliced at the speed of MTV,

Where vision got emptied,

And insight replaced by celebrity envy.

Eyes bleed from screen-time highs,

While minds shrink behind filtered lies.

Reality shows now run the show—Where wisdom is slow, but nonsense flows.

Snow White and Cinderella were traded quick

For Rockafella, a selfie stick,

And a TikTok trick.

Porn is the norm. News is boring. Same old storm, same girl gone.

Tornadoes spin, anchors grin,

Repeat the loop, and tuck you in.

We study death in reverse,

Mocking life as a cursed universe.

Some cry, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,”

While chasing the rush of cash raised on blind trust.

Fabricated claims in mating games—Our joy and pain, now one and the same.

Diseases teased out of labs, while greedy hands clap from the abs.

Create the chaos, then sell the cure,

Call it commerce, clean and pure.

Take the pill, numb the chill,

Remain silent and pay the bill.

Pharma grins with corporate thrill—Fear's the market, we’re standing still.

A slow reversion, regression back to the tribal obsession—

Barbarian dreams and social schemes,

Survival of the tweet-fed memes.

The clock is ticking,

While the masses are sipping,

Watching fiction blur into prediction,

Streaming cataclysm in high definition.

Want to see the end? Just bend around the potholed path ahead.

Squint real hard, pretend. It’s just a movie,

Cue the gasps and disbelief: “How could we not see this catastrophe?”

I know you’re asking me... So what’s the solution,

In this broadcasted evolution,

Where thoughts are reduced to pollution,

And teen minds melt into bright-colored illusions?

Hmm... let me see. What would TV do? Maybe a telethon,

Or a scripted sing-along: “Hold your phones, let’s pray for peace—

While selling sneakers in the streets.”

A perfect shot, a hashtag trend—

Just smile for the lens...As we pretend.