a poem

Shivers from the cold are replaced with a buzzing in his pocket.
Opening the small gray case reveals the sender's name,
A name that evokes interest without connection,
Words on the small screen illuminate his face with a green glow.

Click, click, click, click
Buttons rapidly pressed

And on the other end she sits. Total body dormant but her thumbs,
which have been exercised for hours, punching out witty questions
for a face she will rarely see.
What is being built here?
Idk.
Some bond between the mute bats, in their blind attempt to feel something real
And trapped in their palm-sized devices their visions of reality clouded,
The beauty and colors of their world blurred to black and white.

And the scenery being ignored by buried faces is being buried as well.
Cigarette butts and chewed gum form layers as thick as layers of winter snow.
The luminescent greens and yellows of the grass being eaten not by creatures, but by synthetic scraps.
"What we take for granted might not be here for our children," wise folks call out from time to time to time.
But how could this register in brains so cluttered with the product of a 64'' monitor?

Click, click, click, click.
g2g.

Speak. Feelings don't carry through battery charged contrivances; emotions exist within souls rather than memory cards.

Take a walk. Experience what hasn't been touched, and as your limbs realize they exist for a purpose, stop for a moment and uncover the ground.

Power down to learn what is real.

Category:

People & Blogs

Tags:

• harri
• poem
• supadupaflygirl
• vlog
• wasteland
• young
• girl

[SincerelySmiley]

this is amazing :) and i loved your flow and words

[hipo250]

i loved the onomatopoeia as well

[runeguideable]

....

[begsforemore]

PRETTY