Buried In The Feed

I’m buried in the feed
under flashing ads
and polished lies
every chorus I’ve ever written
drowns while sponsored shit survives

I uploaded one more track
to that cold gray site
at three in the morning
watched the little progress bar crawl
like a slow-motion warning

Typed a careful description
tagged every mood and scene I could claim
hit submit
and felt that quiet punch
of knowing it all looks the same

Some label darling hits the front page
with a banner and a pre-roll smile
every playlist slot already rented out
for a long damn while

My song sinks down
like a stone in a well
no one remembers they dug
dressed in all its best heartbreak
for an audience of shoulders and shrugs

“Great news you’ve been added”
says the email
all bright and loud
turns out it’s some dead list
followed by a ghost town crowd

Ten bots on repeat
and a graph line flat as the street
but the platform sends confetti
while my rent drags nails
through concrete

The charts look like a stock exchange
run by kids who never sleep
they sell our souls as data points
then rent them back for cheap

I pour my lungs into a mic
till my ribs feel scraped and sore
then watch an auto-tuned jingle
get a billion plays and more

They say “just build a following”
like it’s bricks you stack with ease
as if time grows on the branches
of exhausted money trees

I’m working days that chew my spine
then nights that burn my throat
so some faceless engine can decide
if my voice gets a vote

There’s a kid with headphones on somewhere
scrolling past my sound
finger flicking through a gallery
where nothing’s ever found

I look at numbers on a dashboard
like they’re judge and jury both
single digits sneering
while the debt begins its growth

Some days I want to pull the plug
and let the silence win
other nights I write a better knife
and throw it back in

One day I might kill the upload
and sing straight into the room
no tracking link
no comment count
no pixelated bloom

Till then I keep feeding this monster
with songs it doesn’t need
hoping one rough truth slips through the teeth
of this impossible feed