This was inspired by a blog from Jack Kincaid (horror author) on MySpace and the subsequent comments from his "friends".

What secret love is this that flirts the ether,
That clings, a drug itself, to consciousness,
Bringing joy and happiness without reefer,
But somehow slowly making more of less.
Do I let this beast become addiction,
Tantalising me with an unreal charm,
Closing my mind to a gross affliction
That threatens all, yet claims to do no harm?
But our relationship is deadly formed.
No tarrot pack this, I pick a black jack,
See pictures grim yet beautifully adorned;
A trickster on the mat of life. No hack.
Within all this can I keep a straight face
When all I'm talking about is MySpace.

Apologies to all those literary minded who may actually appreciate the sonnet form and who I may have given cause to vomit!

Copyright Terry Martin, August 2006