Many years ago

In a long-forgotten time,

I watched a Channel Four TV show,

I was hooked in episode one,

The endings had a certain style

Making me wait impatiently for next week,

I was gripped by the excitement

Needing to understand more.

 

Each character held and hid a secret

Plots had subplots galore,

I couldn’t always keep up,

So I took comfort in social media

And the spread of gossip at high speed,

But even this dial-up world had subplots

With film studio-fed misinformation,

Propaganda from a spiteful mind.

 

The programme viewed was called ‘Lost’,

People marooned in an ever-decreasing space,

Trying desperately to understand their world,

Their stomping muddied the story even more

Providing red herrings and loose ends,

I avidly watched the seasons, one through to three

But by season Four,

I was losing interest, becoming frustrated.

 

With fewer answers, more questions

What, why, when, who and how.

I gave up caring by season five

Missed the whole of those antics,

As well as season six,

So I missed the ending, I didn’t care,

I now felt I had wasted the effort 

After watching all those previous episodes.

 

And  I’m starting to feel this angst again

With the ‘Conflict in Ukraine’ programme