If I asked you, truly, earnestly, Pray tell what you’d reply For I’ve witnessed each assurance, Promise you’ll detoxify? But you pledge to swear an oath This time, plead guilty to desire For a life on screen can only mean You walk a thinning wire You’re resigned to castigation From the onset were condemned To addictive connectivity Soon made you comprehend That the dopamine-fuelled pleasure Where each hit could be your last Drove each start anew, conviction true Consign it to the past I implore you, set me free From reprehensible machines Liberate me from temptation The allure’s not what it seems So if I now pose the question Of what, perhaps, you’d do instead, ‘If I can’t doom-scroll, screw my eyes out - As I’ll simply stay in bed!’