Poem: My Pretty XBox

My pretty XBox hums and glows.
It gives me movies, shows and games.
My love of XBox grows and grows.
So much I ought to feel ashamed.

I recline in my room for hours,
nursing on its flashing lights.
My body atrophies and sours.
Lovely days, beatific nights.

But I assert with confidence,
that there ARE worser ways to be.
You should have seen the sloth I was,
when I still had cable TV.