Who knows the price we pay
For being ourselves in this day
Of technology and constant pain
We have lost so much with little gain.
We claim to be advanced
"technologically sound"
But WHAT has gone
Can never be found.
Our ancestors lived "basic" to some
What in their place, what have we become?
Dependent on the the computer age
The little box our priest and sage.
We are at ease, yes that is true
But come to think of it, are you YOU
Or a number on a screen, an addendum
Something that dies when the power has gone?
These are my thoughts; I am like you
I have become reliant on this silicon glue
But I seek fulfilment, something more
An escape from this soul-drive store
