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.

I look up to your face,
Oblivious, you gaze down,
Every cell a brilliant shade of blue,
Eyes reflecting a greenish hue;

You don't realise were you are,
Fields of colour you ignore,
African sunsets I know you would adore,
People, places you never even glance at,
Too engrossed in adverts- adverse to books and that;

This haven you think you've created,
It's really a jungle- endless and endless,
Constantly chopping down trees,
Searching for a way out,
But forgetting to open your eyes:

Loosing yourself in an electronic jungle,
loosing yourself in your phone,
loosing yourself in your selfie- self harm; self loath; self hate;

Look up,
Get up,
Move,
Mabey you wont feel quite so...
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                                                                ­              L
                            
                                    O
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                                                 ­                                                                S

       T

Walking in the pale evening dusk,
as the world slowy turns to it's darkened self.

The last Sun rays seeping from the sky.

The world should naturally fade to black.

But our artificial glow comes to light,
To keep us up all night.

As the phone battery died,
So did the light in her eyes.
The mystery message denied,
From prying and lies.