By Miles Smith
Wave hello the the camera,
To big brother
Watching over us,
Always mummified not daddified,
Preserving the debatable godsend we’ve produced.
The life which we live through the screen.
On the screen
It goes black
Like the end of the show,
The show eight feet under
We’ve been cancelled you know.
The world is a stage, and we are merely players.
Sent to say lines, move on, and eventually exeunt.