Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
They crawl along the streets like zombies: Heads cowed over Androids and iPhones. Busily pressing buttons, Risking life and limb As they cross the road. It reminds me of “Star Trek Next Generation” When young Wesley and the rest Were hypnotised By some alien “game”. Sometimes they sit in huddles, Messaging one another Or playing, yes, An addictive game. All lost in a dream world On Facebook or Twitter-Chat Whatever. Soon we will no longer “fall out” with anyone: We will “Unfriend” or “Unfollow” them. I still prefer my laptop. But how long before I too Succumb to this addiction? How long before my “Facebook Morning Splurge” Becomes a day-long trawl? Before I know it I will be like the others: Lost in panic – Frantic Because I forgot to bring My mobile. Paul Butters © PB 25\12\2017.
0
Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 6:06 AM UTC
Addiction
They crawl along the streets like zombies: Heads cowed over Androids and iPhones. Busily pressing buttons, Risking life and limb As they cross the road. It reminds me of “Star Trek Next Generation” When young Wesley and the rest Were hypnotised By some alien “game”. Sometimes they sit in huddles, Messaging one another Or playing, yes, An addictive game. All lost in a dream world On Facebook or Twitter-Chat Whatever. Soon we will no longer “fall out” with anyone: We will “Unfriend” or “Unfollow” them. I still prefer my laptop. But how long before I too Succumb to this addiction? How long before my “Facebook Morning Splurge” Becomes a day-long trawl? Before I know it I will be like the others: Lost in panic – Frantic Because I forgot to bring My mobile. Paul Butters © PB 25\12\2017.
This is not aimed at anyone I know.
paul-butters
Written by
Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 6:06 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem