Sunday, August 25, 2019

Lost Generations

Lost Generations

Marching backwards towards the cliff,
with cell phones on a selfie riff,
consumer habits drunk on scores,
blind as bricks to coming wars.

They get their kicks from stupid things,
ignore the crimes of tyrant kings,
their self indulgence feeds the worm,
that grows inside them like a germ.

Consume, consume, the world is bleeding,
lifelines broken, now receding,
the bonds with nature all but gone,
from reality, you’ve withdrawn.

…And if reality settles in,
you turn to rum, wine and gin,
medieval habits to tie the noose,
on sterile minds now obtuse.

Orwell’s chapter of the human race.
with program screens, not far from face,
believe, believe that you are free,
but prison'd minds will never see.

About this Poem: For some, technology has become a self-imposed prison where reality has all but disappeared. Spiritual connection with nature has been completely severed and all their attention goes into their self indulgence and cell phones. They lose all sight of what matters in life, and instead, wall themselves off into a false reality.

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