MY FACEBOOK LAMENT .. Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBarkPoet
I miss my Facebook pages, and I miss my Facebook mates,
and if you’ve been turfed from Facebook then to you I can relate.
When I see the other things it shares – it’s open to debate
as to why they’ve kicked me out – for too much love or too much hate?
Too much love perhaps for brumbies, too much love perhaps for dogs,
and for lovely friends and family – I even fancy frogs.
Was perhaps my positivity a bit too much to bear?
Did my smiley faces overwhelm? So often I did share.
I was a voice for the animals for they’ve none of their own,
If I saw injustice, I would speak out loudly to atone
for the cruelty that they receive across this wide, wide world ….
Was that seen as negativity? My fury was unfurled.
Did I speak against the orange man? I did – I must confess
I cannot stand blatant liars. He causes so much distress –
although he has his staunch supporters, and it seems that they hold sway
He will make America great again …. believe that if you may.
Were poems I shared politically incorrect today?
Well of course they were, for those poets wrote about yesterday.
Or centuries ago, when things were very different. True.
And we cannot alter history no matter what we do.
Did I poste child pornography or explicit sexual scenes?
I did not and wouldn’t care to they’re not part of my scheme,
though there’s plenty there on Facebook and of that I have no doubt.
How come those folks are still viewing whilst this old chook’s been cast out?
Did I post displays of violence – did I share in racial hate?
I did not I can assure you for I wouldn’t do that mate.
I’m an old tough Aussie sheila – and as gentle as a lamb
unless you get me riled – then a tiger’s what I am.
But for four months now I’m outed – all my pleas have gone in vain.
I have begged for reinstatement – Facebooks driving me insane.
I was once a moderator of a page of which I’m proud.
But it seems no more since Facebook tells me I am not allowed.
So, I sit in abject silence in my home, alone and sad
and I reminisce about the lovely Facebook friends I had,
who shared my love of poetry, and horses, frogs and dogs.
Now I do not see their pictures, nor their journeys can I log.
The pictures of my son and dogs are lost – taken away.
I no longer view the videos my boy made, hear him say
the words that bought me pleasure, for he’s no longer on earth.
Now my joyfulness is failing, and I start to doubt my worth.
If perchance Facebook does see this and I surely hope they do,
then perhaps they might consider their value to me and you.
For we seniors are trying very hard to stay afloat,
which then all seems goes for nothing when some bugger rocks the boat.
We’ve exhausted every avenue; we’ve tried and tried in vain
to reconnect. They do not care. Our pleas are all in vain.
What did I do????? They will not say. Just claim I’ve been disabled …
My protests fall on their deaf ears. I’ve been officially mislabelled.
22.7.2025
