Print screen my whole being,
in the cadence of seasons changed.
Generation X's sweet heartbreak.
Strangers share the pain.
We walk the walk online,
in these times that are a changed.
Changing no more - subtly maybe.
The footfall of history stored,
in Google baby,
& terrabytes & ram.
A virus called.
And the rhyming stalled,
Man made museums in nothing, but,
smaller than the eye can see.
lost in scrolled screens,
likes and comments,
Then we logged out of life,
and left reality behind smokescreens,
HD ready, on blue days -
Our brain waves microwaved.
in the palm of our mouse shaped hands.
Say goodbye to the old days,
guilty as charged,
the strife of low battery life;
running out of charge.
had this concept inside me for a long time - still needs work x
Update - thanks for feedback on this - I've changed the title as the last one wasn't really pc.
Then I changed it back