I sit at home thinking of life,
On the absurdities and all the strife,
Caught in a world that yearns
For beings to explore it.

How we’ve all grown addicted,
As no one could’ve predicted,
To our own little "ideal" worlds
That rest neatly in the palm of our hands.

We cry and complain,
How things don’t remain,
Just way the way we want
When we point our heads to the sky.

Away from our own little worlds,

We see grandiosity unthought of.
We see war, famine, disagreements, heartbreaks, rejection, and loss.
We stare for but a moment taking it in as our minds collapse in the straw houses we created.
And then just like that, we shun all that we see,
And look back down to that glowing screen and start to rebuild.

Not with something stronger, no.

With that same old material so readily available, to those who refuse to learn.
To those who refuse to face the reality of life.
To those who prefer hearing their own ideas on rerun.
To those who care more about having the appearance of a happiness than to actually achieve it.
To those who care more about likes and comments, pictures and videos, than meeting others.
We sit there smiling at that device that eats away at our growth, our character, and our resolve.

And in our haste to prevent ourselves from acknowledging hardships, we miss something.
In that infinite space away from our "ideal" worlds, exists the other half we no longer see.
The happiness, bonds, trust, friendships, kindness, and love.
The people that want to strike up a conversation, form relationships.
The people who desire an emotional bond, rather than a visual one.
We imitate this, attempt to recreate it, in our fictionalized lives, not realizing how much better the real thing would be.

If only we would look up to the sky.