We worship the net
We understand the reason why google starts with 'go..'
We give the 'd' while praying in our inboxes,
The only place we think under, these boxes.

I was blinded by the Jozi city lights,
Chasing false fortunes,
Got lost in people's comments and complements.
Last time I closed my eyes I was somewhere in South Africa.
Today am somewhere on google map,
Planting trigo-station every time I get high.

If you find me standing before the burning bridges,
Show me a path leading to the South Africa Mandela was talking about.

Wishing for you, yearning,
Looking upon you and reading those horrifying words.
Why? Why do you do this to me?
Those five words I dread each time I spend time with you:
“Unable to Connect to the Internet.”

Let us write our stories  
Reckon all moments
A passage to self-reflection  
With a display box of grandeur,  
Fingers on a key pressed,  
Levitates a search in no time,
Way out of the crowd  
Quiting a reality to roam and wander  
Nothing is outside, all within  
A big circle of virtual connections,  
Without months of eye contacts  
No face to face,  
Sending empathy through e-thoughts

Having a common ground,  
Hope to run faster than Terabyte,  
We love seconds more than a minute  
WiFi made all worth living  
Sending signals to the soul  
We will feel it, anyway.

Have you seen the news?
Then you've missed the point.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ahg6qcgoay4

We get so lost in this another world,
that is becoming our reality,
actually it has already started.
And it's scaring me.
Humankind has lost a sense of self,
nothing is real anymore
and when nothing's real,
everything feels worthless.
Everything we constantly keep aiming for...
but for what?

Did you ever stop and ask yourself;
what are you doing?
Why are you doing this and what for?
What is real?
Is it your smile or your words?

Im frightened that this other world may be the end of us.
We will reach the bottom line aiming for the; top, perfection.
There will be very little left of authenticity,
if none..

The body separated from the soul,
The body left to become a coal..

Nobody can play her role,
Nobody can fulfill her goal.

To write a poem seems so foul,
You were none to me, yet your demise has taken a toll