Newspapers folding
At dizzying speeds: have empire,
must now work for food.
I spent 20 years
reheating meals, losing sleep:
I lost my job anyway.
Fend for yourself now
Amid the wreckage: no prospects,
hell...no benefits.
Dear Freelancer: your
pay is due for an increase (when
Hell freezes over).
What is the essence
of a correspondent?
Rhymes with..."despondent."
Shareholders swarm
like locusts, leaving nothing
but dreams in pieces.
As newsrooms topple
Like dominoes nationwide,
one thought has struck me:
Here is our downfall,
In 25 words or less...we
missed so many hints.
- The Reckoner
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