We got that need

That forever blues

That we must feed

On the breaking news.

Some are born

Others are called

We push and dig

And hit the walls.

It could be sports.

Or features. Or opinion.

But any old way

It’s like our Opium.

It’s how we must

Be the first to know.

Whether it’s print, radio or a

Broadcast news show.

Our wheels spin,

With most hearts pure

As we desperately cling

To our words so sure.

Older times taught us fonts

In handset type.

Today it’s so much more

About the hype.

And being hyper,

Like brains of frogs

That spin like in a centrifuge

Like tails chasing dogs.

Some of us dig

Like a honey bee badger

Never quite sure what we’ll find

Or even what we’re after.

But there are those times

When it’s well worth it.

Raise your coffee cup

And just birth it!

It could be reporting convictions

Or hearing fear enhanced.

That’s when we get up and

Do the Happy Dance!

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