I Dreamt a Dream (of our TV Anchors)

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Martin Luther King, I am told
Had a dream for his nation, bold
I, too, had a dream, but of a different type
It concerned our TV hype

With panellists primed, audience in rows
Most TV Anchors on their evening shows
Drunk on their ego, in love with their voice
Making only fools rejoice

Oh so smug, with no knowledge deep
Making my skin creep, even in sleep
I dreamt I’d set on them, hives of bees
Making their TRPs suddenly increase

There was AG flailing in fear
And BD trying to get one out of her ear
One straight up the nose of DC, on air
Making him jump out of his chair

RD, suddenly hopping up and down
SG imitating a female clown
PR in panic, running around
Their feet finally touching the ground

What headlines next day,
what deflated egos
Tho’ a few did have an inflated nose
I woke up feeling very very proud
And, of course, laughing aloud

This is the only joy I’ve got out of these
Worthless chasers of TRPs
Oops, on this specimen only his mother can dote
Please, please, someone pass the remote