Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Ear holes closed to the world Hands thumping to the beat All made in the same mould How they enjoy this moronic feat! You would feel they are not from womb But batches generated by machines Clones consigned to doom Mechanical dolls in their teens! It’s no yielding to passion For music that touches the heart Just an unquestioning submission to fashion That once acquired defies to depart! Their earpiece shuts out the world And with it goes the fine art of hearing Cursed and made in the same mould They never know how sweetly the birds sing!
0
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 7:32 AM UTC
Mechanical Dolls
Ear holes closed to the world Hands thumping to the beat All made in the same mould How they enjoy this moronic feat! You would feel they are not from womb But batches generated by machines Clones consigned to doom Mechanical dolls in their teens! It’s no yielding to passion For music that touches the heart Just an unquestioning submission to fashion That once acquired defies to depart! Their earpiece shuts out the world And with it goes the fine art of hearing Cursed and made in the same mould They never know how sweetly the birds sing!
pradip-chattopadhyay
Written by
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 7:32 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem