The Selfie Poem by Kevin Hulme

The Narcissistic young are the worst offenders by far,
A tilt of the head like their adored favourite Star.
The Pose now exact by the Mirror at home,
That ‘Oscar Night' poise that is perfectly honed.
A look in the eyes, give the lips a good purse,
The fine tuning of sorts that is daily rehearsed.
A turn at the waist so the angles just right,
It's a ritual of sorts that they daily recite.
Two fingers of Peace and a fluff of the Hair,
‘Exclamation point' view for the ‘Media' to share.
The darkened shades off or just keep them on,
A Testament of days when all youth has but gone.
But in my own April time when Spring flowed through the Veins,
I'd be guilty as charged for I could be the same.