They Shuffle,
down the street.
Lost,
In a trance.
Consumed by video
Apps or
Games of chance
Vacant are their bloodshot eyes and
behind them you will find
A mind slaved to the rhythm of the
Solid
State
Drive.
On the train
On the bus
Plod along
Create no fuss
While the soundtrack to their lives nulls the pain.
For the hustle and bustle
and commuters in a tussle
Are drowned out by the
sound of a Squirtle in the rain.
They can’t see what’s straight ahead,
Can’t blink away the tears from
A consciousness that’s LOL’d, controlled
By the white leads from their ears.
They think of Playlists/Updates/Purchases
Not about the world at large.
The only time they weaken
Is when they must recharge.
Mankind’s future is on the rocks,
Its outlook is quite glum,
For now you can control the whole damned world
with a movement of your thumb.
They chill us to the core my friend,
An image of what might be.
They’re slowly coming for us
You and I
They’re name –
iZombie