A love letter to Mark Burnett from the remnants of his audience

For our sonnet project in poetry class, I decided to write about a topic that is very near and dear to my heart : What happens to a reality television show when all the excitement has vanished? Such is my debate with Survivor. The show that was once so fresh, new and relevant is now just a hulking shell of what it used to be. No ones cares about it anymore because there is nothing exciting about it. People have cracked the system. You get to find out about alliances, and see people argue and watch people do nothing of interest for days and days and days.
It's pretty pathetic all things considered.
And now that they feel the compulsion to re-include old characters who were voted off in previous seasons... it's just a hulking, massive, rotting zombie of the golden boy show it used to be.
Give me more of Australia where they really had no idea what to do, and all was fresh and unique. That would be awesome. We need another Jerri.

A love letter to Mark Burnett from the remnants of his audience
by Matti McLean

I watch them every week upon the screen
As they complain about the things they do
And wane, complaining about uncooked beans
And lying as the numbers become few.

I wonder how on earth do they survive
The tortures that they face from week to week
To test the boundaries of being alive
and test the winning tribes new lucky streak.

And now I watch as they all play their games,
and lie about the things that they will show
to get ahead, and not to see their names
appear within the palms of mighty Probst

Would I survive for thirty days upon
A film set when the audience is gone?