Poem: Strange Times

Strange times these are,

connected with all of man,

yet disconnected with the self,

everywhere the new man craves attention,

not attending to the silent cries that come from within,

everywhere people try and act like someone else, mimick

another’s movements, speak

another’s words, look

less like yourself, more

like a stranger, puppet-like

the strings controlled by corporations, greedily

milking the youth of their youth, creating

pill addicted, like craving, popularity obsessed future parents.

 

Imbalance in actions,

Imbalance in reliance,

Imbalance in thought,

Imbalance in understanding.

 

Overreliance on technology,

no more goldilocks zone,

Aristotle said what?

moderation is unknown,

under reliance on the self.

 

Ease bring with it imagined desires, fears, wants, hopes,

the kind that occupies the silence which technology provides,

that silence in which the absurdity, the meaninglessness, the uncertainty, the randomness of life can clearly be heard in painful screams.

 

shut it off,

take a pill,

have a drink,

find something to hate,

(someone or yourself)

that way the strange times can keep getting stranger.

 

Heading down an unknown path,

the wild ride is yet to come,

when the future becomes present and a new future is born,

those times will tell,

how damaged we are,

but for now,

all one can do,

is hold on tight.

 

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