Internet Disconnect
Oh! woe is me born far too soon, lost in a sea of internet space.
A lighthouse beacon ignored, still lights up the gloom
With pointless direction when remote and touchscreen replace.
Lonely lighthouse serving small purpose,
Abandoned museum littered with flotsam and jetsam
Typewriter, pen and pencil float on foamy surface.
A new language foreign to ears grown dull
Dumbed down for eyes only, not skull.
A dis-connect in a world bursting with connection
Of instant this and instant that, abandons all trace
Of real connection to care, love and real affection.
Gone crazy on memes and see, see my face,
Our senses attacked, depletes life’s essence
Removing all need to avail our presence.
Hardly human, we stumble and lurch in comatose android gait
Desperate to find the next internet fix, our only debate.
A need to adapt must still challenge the mind
Will I forever float like space debris no purpose, still blind?
Lynda Rogle ©
