Disconnected Welcome to the proud planet of EarthWhere human interaction is a clear as dirt.The same flourishes of skin on skinHave become virtual keys and clicksNames don’t matter anymore,Hash tags and @ signs have taken form,As the new fingerprints of us…“But learning names is such a chore!”   We rant on how technology has us corrupted,Why complain, if we’re just as bad as the wordsThat are said. If there is a sliver of hope for theFighters, the believers, the choosers and the seers.Then it’s shrouded in a place where no one comes near.Instead of speaking with our mouths, we choose our fingers,Punching or swooshing along keys…linger…think…type…repeat. This crutch that has us *leaning*, is straying us away fromHuman interaction, de-feating the purposeOf what “human” really is.A son can’t talk to her son, without a screen being the oneTo emit her love, after pressing “send, enter or done.” Dates have become tragedies at bestCouples sit together, without seeing each other.Face plastered to words. “That one text message always comes first!”By the time they start eating the food’s cold, and they eat it with a sigh,But they’re glad they’re at least caught up with their virtual lives. It’s not until we’re old and grey, that we missHow we used to say “Morning, afternoon, bye” keeping distanceAnd solidarity at bay almost like a foreign concept. AlthoughThose times are gone now and don’t seem to show. Our grandchildrenWill probably still be punctuating sentences with “lol”  and “yolo” So welcome to the proud planet of Earth,Where its people are so closeYet so far. Waiting for their next text messageOr email. We’ve never been so connected,With buttons replacing emotions,The screens of our livesBecoming our gods…and devotions.


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