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.




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.


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