Head Down

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Head down I march, looking at my phone.

 

A world at my fingertips, I am not alone.

 

Head down I stride, passing people in the street.

 

With my head in my phone, I don’t care to meet.

 

Bing

 

Head down I walk, they say ignorance is bliss.

 

With my head in my phone, it’s an irony I miss.

 

So many things, grabbing my attention.

 

No time to consider – free thinking prevention.

 

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Head down I trudge, I’m a living oxymoron.

 

A socialite recluse, my generation’s a flawed one.

 

Gradually losing the art of conversation.

 

With my head in my phone, complete alienation.

 

 

 

All of a sudden the battery dies on my phone.

 

 

I stop and look up.

 

 

I’m lost and alone.

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