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.
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.
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.