My Facebook Friend never said “Hello”. Never clapped or cheered or wished me well. When I posted news or luck and such, He was never there to say, “That’s swell!”
He didn’t “like” my brand new job, my dog, My hat, my hefty raise, My move to Perth for three whole months And back again for the Holidays.
And not a peep when I met the boy Who then became my greatest love. Nor not a tear when I lost my joy, And he left this Earth for clouds above.
But my Facebook Friend posted ev’ryday And told the world his latest stuff. His rants, his raves, he stubbed his toe. No newsy thing was small enough.
He found some lint, he burned a cake! He cut his hair, and changed his vote. And we, the people, standing by Should clap our hands, or at least take note!
I’d laughed, and cried, and cheered, and “liked”. I’d clicked the Angry face and Sad. I’d praised and flattered like a fool. When he stubbed his toe, I’d felt real bad.
And then one day, I saw the light. At last, I knew I was just a prop. A thing to support my Facebook Friend. I faced the truth. It had to stop.
So late one night, so dark and deep. While moon shown high and Facebook slept, With MACs and PCs sound asleep. I pressed “Unfriend”. Away I crept.
And have I missed a single post? His so-called wit, his hearty heart, His learning, skill, his lint, his toe. Have I missed his news? No, not a fart.
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