deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Technical Choice
Feast on this world inside
Ones and zeros and coding arise
Your alone, but yet you are not
Go on facebook and let your eyes rot
Reality is now seemingly an illusion
Your phone is a hand-held portal
Those tablets set with vast information
The horizon doesn't seem to end
Perceptions of social cues bend
And what of the habits made?
Can't we find this digital world a charade?
Yet the partiers continue to parade
From politics to porn- can we not be saved?
And who are you? Who am I?
Can we honestly tell this without a lie?
Soon it starts to feel lonely outside
Where there is no screen to hide behind
No games to pass the time
Are we going to be fine?
But the last question that leaves the mind
Is which world would we leave behind?
To where shall we go for our daily grind
Our daily binds in each which keep us blind
In our own moments of time
Ones and zeros and coding arise
Your alone, but yet you are not
Go on facebook and let your eyes rot
Reality is now seemingly an illusion
Your phone is a hand-held portal
Those tablets set with vast information
The horizon doesn't seem to end
Perceptions of social cues bend
And what of the habits made?
Can't we find this digital world a charade?
Yet the partiers continue to parade
From politics to porn- can we not be saved?
And who are you? Who am I?
Can we honestly tell this without a lie?
Soon it starts to feel lonely outside
Where there is no screen to hide behind
No games to pass the time
Are we going to be fine?
But the last question that leaves the mind
Is which world would we leave behind?
To where shall we go for our daily grind
Our daily binds in each which keep us blind
In our own moments of time
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