We walk in crowds,
Yet feel alone,
Each glued to screen,
Each in a zone.
We scroll through lives,
Perfect and clean,
Comparing ours,
To filtered sheen.
We are pieces,
Of something wide,
Yet shrinking more,
With every swipe.
Connected,
But divided too,
A million voices —
None feel true.
Feb 26
Feb 26, 2026 at 9:52 AM UTC
We walk in crowds,
Yet feel alone,
Each glued to screen,
Each in a zone.
We scroll through lives,
Perfect and clean,
Comparing ours,
To filtered sheen.
We are pieces,
Of something wide,
Yet shrinking more,
With every swipe.
Connected,
But divided too,
A million voices —
None feel true.
