This is where we hide and express our thoughts,
Ignore reality and become a superstar.
Wanting to be free from the world and become beautiful.
Adults protest against this site, they want it banned.
Most of us teenagers think they are squares,
But we all know that indeed there is a dark side of the site.
Perfection is something that we all want, and through this site we can achieve it.
Even the most anti-social person will have millions and millions of friends,
But all for a cost, to sell your image.
Let’s put countless of layers of makeup and spike our hair so it can defy gravity,
Blog our latest scoop and take our camera whenever we look good
We don’t care, because this site grants us the opportunity to be someone else,
To fall in love that might not even exist, yet our hearts are awakened,
By this temporary emotion that might not even be real.

This is where we cry and can indulge ourselves in an abyss of lies,
We can be photographers ,models ,scene kids and role-players,
And be praised instead of ridiculed.
This site is what people describe as the golden chair
A place where you can sit while the world is in despair,
But we don’t care, because we are loved and praised for our looks.
Our parents remind us of how this site destroys our lives,
And all we can do is smile and tell them that we are doing our homework,
We lie in order to be part of this faudulent site.

Why?

Why do we waste our time like this?

We weren’t always like this were we?

We remember playing board games and enjoying the bright sun,
Our skin is too pale because we wait for someone to virtually praise us,
What happened to the bright sun that used to illuminate our skin?
We stare blankly at the screen as the world is self destroying itself,
But we don’t care, because we met someone on this site that likes us.

This site makes us feel better about ourselves, but also makes us ignorant,
Time passes by and our butt become flat from sitting countless of hours,
We want to be saved; we want to be praised,
Our hearts scream and we want our parents to take away this horrible obsession,
This site has taken away our will and we’ve become sheep,
Zombies with endless suffering,
Our innocence has been corrupted,
And our bodies have been sold.
This site, has made us happier than ever,
But this happiness only lasts until we read our comments,
After that, we feel guilt and scream inside waiting to be saved,
We just follow everyone else and smile at them,
“yes, I’ll go on the site tonight”
We lie because we know this site is absorbing our soul and time,
Instead of filling us with joy, we are filled with despair,
It’s all fake, it’s all a popularity contest that won’t take us anywhere,
A place that only closes our eyes to reality,
We are blind, help us, save us before it’s too late
This site, is called myspace.