FOMO
- Theresa Baxter
- Jul 19, 2023
- 1 min read

Compelled we are to “over-do”
And what reward do we pursue?
For stuff, for things, for love, for thanks
In order to move up in rank
Spurred on by what we think is best
Charmed life that’s better than the rest
And that is what FOMO’s about
The fear of always missing out
Greedy for experience
Spectacular in every sense
So that when tally’s made by all
You stand apart, your life enthralls
But once the day has set, what’s left?
A toppled chair, an empty net
The only one that ends up caring
Is the one obsessed with sharing
The ones you thought were friends and fans
Leave for the next thing, ‘cause they can
And that is why they say Fame’s fickle
It doles itself out, just a little
Giving taste, enticing tease
Then just as fast away it flees
To all this, I say, let it go
To self and no one else you owe
Just live content with what you’ve got
Or strive for value, not what’s bought
None are virtues worth extolling
Coming from needless doom-scrolling
Too heavy is that weight you’ll lug
If you can’t see to pull the plug…
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