The Old Days
The world was small you didn’t have to know
The world was small you didn’t have to grow
You knew the name of everyone in town
You knew the good, the bad, and the clowns
You knew whose yard you had to avoid
But the old ways have all been destroyed
That phone in your pocket took the world and unlocked it
Streaming every foreign terror constantly to your sockets
A 24/7 freak show deviant satanic panic
It’s manic, it’s static, it’s you.
The world is big you’re part of the show
The world is big you’re lost in its flow
You know the flaws of everyone online
You know the bad, the vile, and the swine
You know the ones whose lives should desist
So your old way of life can exist
That phone in your pocket took the world and unlocked it
Streaming every foreign terror constantly to your sockets
A 24/7 freak show deviant satanic panic
It’s manic, it’s static, it’s you.
That phone in your pocket took the world and unlocked it
Streaming every foreign terror constantly to your sockets
A 24/7 freak show deviant satanic panic
It’s manic, it’s static, it’s you.
The world is small unless you make it big
That’s not your world unless you make it
You can have the world the way you wanted
if you power down and just choose to live.
About the Creator
Poet Dill
Poetry is to me what for others is to breath, part the heart, part the soul, part the brain, parts as whole. Both to write and to read come so naturally in diverse styles, serious and play. I'm a poet.
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶4 days ago in Petlife
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