Not long ago it was
That people smiled at each other.
In front of the famous leaning tower,
Or the relic of a long vanished power.
The smile started fresh at first,
But grew tired and dishevelled
As people trundled taking in the sights-
Sun hat, goggles, silhouettes, city lights.
But all that camaraderie is gone.
Now a long stick proclaims our penchant
For narcissistic selfies that enchant.
No rule of thirds, composition-free,
Light and depth all replaced by "me".
Today I shoot and write my own story.
Every picture an autobiography.
You no more see tourists showing each other photos.
It's Instagram, Facebook, or Picasa.
No savouring the moment, no streetside ice cream.
Everyone is a hit-and-run team.
What a miserable picture of fun!
Running away from your own private paparazzi!
That people smiled at each other.
In front of the famous leaning tower,
Or the relic of a long vanished power.
The smile started fresh at first,
But grew tired and dishevelled
As people trundled taking in the sights-
Sun hat, goggles, silhouettes, city lights.
But all that camaraderie is gone.
Now a long stick proclaims our penchant
For narcissistic selfies that enchant.
No rule of thirds, composition-free,
Light and depth all replaced by "me".
Today I shoot and write my own story.
Every picture an autobiography.
You no more see tourists showing each other photos.
It's Instagram, Facebook, or Picasa.
No savouring the moment, no streetside ice cream.
Everyone is a hit-and-run team.
What a miserable picture of fun!
Running away from your own private paparazzi!
