They Shuffle,

down the street.



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





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 –


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