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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1678569-Toppled-Giants
by TomCon
Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1678569
A poem about how print journalists must feel every once in a while.
         We were the proud
         We stood tall above the city,
         Astonishing
         Horrifying
         Enlightening
         We did it all.

         But they have forgotten us.
         Cast us aside for the sleek,
         the shiny,
         the fast.
         They’ve moved on to a new state of mind.
         
         Now information, which we once
         Labored to find, can be spread
         Around the world the day of its creation.

         This is a place where the
         Uninformed and their opinions
         Reign supreme and the
         Loud, arguing masses drown out
         Any attempt at balanced,
         Reasonable
         Discussion.

         We’ve tried playing their way;
         Hired upstarts who can
         Navigate this new land with
         Ease.

          But the public no longer responds.
         No longer cares.
         And our numbers keep dropping.

         So we are dying..
But rather than mourning, let’s enjoy
         The time we have left.
         
         And when the knell tolls,
         May it be a swift end.
© Copyright 2010 TomCon (tomcon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1678569-Toppled-Giants