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Click, share, like, react,
does it reinforce a fact?
If you make me look at that,
do you wrest control from me?

Does my pause intensify
those emotions that you try
to smother deep or magnify?
What an odd psychology.

Lock step, real quick,
don’t argue with my politic!
Friends together have to stick,
God forbid we disagree.

I know who will slap my wrist
if I say unicorns exist.
They’ll tell me they could not resist;
it’s hard, I know, to let things be.

You love science, she hates fiction,
I’m a stickler for good diction.
Conflict is a mean addiction
to our fastest-growing industry.

Pity poor or hate the rich,
some days I just don’t know which
cheap polarity to ditch—
Robin Hood, we’re up a tree!

By the time I end this poem,
a million cells I will have grown,
to feed on whate’er seeds I’ve sown
in my garden of biology.

You think we’re in our final act,
maybe never coming back?
This life might be a single track
on the  album called Infinity.


© Elaine Stirling, 2017