Hello chatroom, my old friend,
I’ve come to scroll through you again,
Because a message gently creeping,
Left its ringtone while I was sleeping,
And the data that was planted in my brain
Still remains—
Within the buzz of WhatsApp.
In restless texts I typed alone,
Midnight glow on my phone,
’Neath the halo of a screen’s light,
I opened chats that ran all night,
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a meme so bright,
It split the fight—
And touched the tone of WhatsApp.
And in my feed, I saw the beams,
Ten thousand pings, relentless streams,
People typing without speaking,
People sharing without thinking,
People checked the ticks that never turned to blue again,
No hearts remain—
Just echoes sent through WhatsApp.
“Fools,” said I, “you do not know,
Silence once had room to grow.
Hear my words that might reach you later,
Echoed through an app or updater.”
But my messages, like statuses, unseen,
Lost between—
The endless scroll of WhatsApp.
And the people bowed and prayed,
To the phone gods they had made,
And the app flashed out its warning,
In the memes that kept on swarming,
And the words of friends were written in the chat logs deep,
Where we all keep—
Our lives, inside of WhatsApp.
With due apologies to "The Sounds of Silence"
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