We spent every waking moment looking down;
I heard the world around us was beautiful, but I wouldn’t know now.
We didn’t use our eyes for anything much more than a glow;
Now, we’re bent forward from staring at our phones—
When did we become these crooked-necked old folks?
Surely as we were squinting at pictures of places
We did not, and never will, see for ourselves.
I would tell you stories of my travels, but I left those books shelved.
I considered going outside, but wasn’t it always too hot?
I would have rather sat alone, scrolling through a feed of strangers’ thoughts.
You know, it’s blurry now, but I think
I remember seeing the most beautiful sunset—
If my memory serves me as right, that is, but most of the time it isn’t.
I’m sure there’s a picture somewhere if only I could find it.
Were our fingers always this curved, and our thumbs this arthritic?
The three of you seem quite discontent,
Isn’t that, however, how the majority of our lives were spent?
We were liked by many, but known by few—
Weren’t we only doing what we were supposed to do?
To fit in, you know? To make our friends jealous, to put on a show.
Why it’s all we’ve ever known.
As I think of it now, did we really need another post?
Innumerable images of food we never tasted;
Pictures upon pictures of people half-naked;
We’re at the end of our lives and only now do we realize our lives were wasted.