steve a. manolis poet

Please Don’t Like This

 

We have made the world smaller, or so whatever that means,

Instant gratification, like you can get off faster,

There are no means, just the end, just the result

It means nothing to me, other that the constant drone

Of emptiness, no one stands for anything

Thy bidding comes from higher up, never from within

We have no cause other than that of being there

Mass hysteria, buy this, and like that

We have become our own technology, robotic

Yanked by the wirelessness, dancing to the beat

Of some other drummer, and our dreams drown

Yet I will tweet it, send you a picture of it

You can press like, it’s like pressing out of consciousness

You never have to say anything, it’s all said for you

You barely have to breathe, and please do so

Your silence is killing me