Twenty-First Century Child

Raised by ads on MTV

                 faces on CNN

                 words on screens

                 and people without depth

I am the product of pixels and vectors-


They tell me to question tangible things,


              who bellow gaily and cast mellow waves

              on cutting gales in the sky,


              that bend softly towards the same sun

              that powers panels to fuel my 




               the very skin on the back of my hand,

made up of tangible cells and tangible molecules.


We run forward,

towards blaring screens,

and are put back

when it doesn’t make us feel

any better.


We tell the world

the details of our lives

and stumble

when not everybody

submits their approval.


When I go outside,

I see the sun,

but I don’t feel its light.


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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