My compulsion leaks out of my soul everyday.
Waiting like Pavlov's dog each moment for some little treat to feed my desire.
Simple two word texts are my treats.
Saying little and only suggesting,
for the second it takes for you peck it out,
that you thought of me.
That's all it takes,
it makes no sense,
it Is silly.
I am a fool.
I am the dog.
When you don't reach out my concerns flourish,
over what I cant say.
I am Pavlov's dog.
My compulsion leaks out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is brilliant. Your poem captures perfectly how this new age of social media has managed to condition...us all. Well done.