We are pleased with ourselves.
Couched in luxury unthinkable
by generations barely decayed.
Problems persist, happiness
illusory at worst, fleeting at best.
It's definition recently revised.
Perfect planes of plastic, baubles
to be held, admired, possessed,
litter thought and aspiration.
Convenience is a given, sense
gathers dust in gray corridors,
falls asleep on the watch.
Glowing light as an anesthetic,
soothing, calming, the hand
of the unseen, falling lids,
the mind at rest.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment