The power lines are singing.
An electric sigh for the technological age..
All day and night the lights are glowing,
From town to city.
Inside the hollow homes,
Where lives the hollow people.
The book becomes the t.v.
The phone replaces the paper and pen.
Producing addicts faster than heroin.
Foaming at the lips for a glimpse of the latest.
Emotions tossed aside for entertainment eyes..
Taken in by the awe of fantastical schemes, and flat screen skies.
Does any one recall what silence is,
The volume at 13 that is..
The closest to peace society
will get,
As we turn on the tube to forget,
And sacrifice our minds to the gods of the internet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem