Clicking the Remote

Why is there no poetry on TV?

Clicking, clicking, clicking Who are we tricking? Reality passing us by And we don’t even ask why

Hundreds of realities to choose from With the power of our mighty thumb The OFF button we can’t find We’re afraid to turn off our mind

If we only keep clicking And never do any picking Something will eventually come And pull us out of our slum

By clicking we look for change And it no longer seems strange But we never find the life That moves us beyond our strife

We strive to live and understand With the device in our hand While our heart grows weaker As we’re no longer a true seeker

We have traded our hearts For something with different parts We seek instead with our thumb And thus have become dumb

We used to call our heart a ticker But traded it for a clicker Opportunities used to be massive But instead we opted to be passive

While our hearts and minds don’t move We’ve fallen into a stagnant groove Living to the same old hum Comatose except for our thumb

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. My Poetry Archive.