Poetry (words)

Social Escapology 

Were there times to rival these, bitterness seems to have grown fangs. Days uncoil like a venomous rage. I’ve become an onlooker, a bystander stepping out of the cauldron only to witness the world implode. 

Reverberations quake, repetition has never been so repetitive. Looking down is the new standing up. We’re an app away from awesomeness, the promise land with  LCD display. Whole lives crammed onto memory sticks just plug it in and play. Happiness is the thing that exists behind you, that goes ignored while you sit almost rooted to the screen. Wired up and clueless. Can’t exist without it, can’t live with it. 


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