is this what was meant?


Is this what was meant.

The power of imagination trampled,

As we stare into TV sets.

Books are bought for their covers,

Put in their place and never read.

Life is seen through a periscope of screens,

The adventure few will feel.

Computers and their games pushed out,

What we once all knew as real.

Luxuries were handcrafted to be durable,

Now they’re produced both worn and torn,

Magazines were once edifying and classy,

They’re now mediums of hardcore-soft-porn.

Conversations are ancient fables,

The muted beats of keyboards now reign.

Dinner tables are now dinner couches,

And the concept of eye-to-eye is now inane.

Our adventures are seen by the unsocial masses,

And scrolled over without care.

Our successes are met by silent jealousy,

Successes only family seem to share.

Breaking news is now monotonous,

And celebrity culture now the rage.

The long pilgrimage to Mecca means bingo,

Now only a bus stop away.

Those who deserve the status of legend,

Are reduced to this week’s fad,

The plethora of our language has been crippled,

A concentration that is mad.

Innovative nerve is a memory,

Replaced by the stigma of being wrong,

Emotions are labelled as a weakness,

Limited to that of emoticons.

Art and creativity has been discarded,

They plague intelligence and it’s mould,

Success is measured by zeros on a bonus,

Not by growth or common goal.

Life used to be about the journey,

But now it’s a commute without a view.

Relationships had stability,

But now almost everything falls through.

Communities were a tight knit,

Now we don’t know our neighbours name.

Honesty was predetermined,

Now we’re desperate to shift the blame.

Seeking help with our hardships,

Has been swallowed by solitude.

Manners were once of great importance;

Now replaced by attitude.

Where we were once together, united,

We’ve fallen victim to dissent.

Now I think and ask rhetoric questions,

Hoping all this was never meant.

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As a shameless opportunist, I'm going to use this footer area to remind you that I am a NUMBER 1 BEST-SELLING author, which means  you should probably go and buy my books, or my super-duper-rubbish artwork, or at least very least come back every 6 months to make all this sort of worthwhile. (I realise this totally contradicts the self-deprecating message of my website, but my imaginary agent said I should put it down as an afterthought. So I have. Happy now imaginary agent?)