The Box

The box. And endless world 

In front of a ready mind. 

Infinite possibilities 

That one need only find. 

Dazzled eyes behold it,

The magic of blue light. 

Mesmerizing colours 

Flash across, screen bright. 

Where once stood the homely fireplace, 

It stakes its claim in lives. 

Where once was hearth conversation 

The beloved box now thrives.

Invading every pocket, 

A screen for the minutes long 

To take the mind off waiting

And fill it with the throng. 

In the quiet bedroom haven,

The box now anchored sits.

Midnight fast approaching, 

One more show— Then call it quits. 

Silent moments, Sleep and peace,

You find them slip away. 

Just one more show; short, doomscrolled hour,

before you end the day. 

And then you look back and wonder

Where time ever went.

You feel killed. So unfulfilled. 

Tired and slow and spent. 

The box inside your pocket 

And wired to your wall,

Laughs softly at your questions

And watches thousands fall. 

The day you met the box. 

The day your world lay bare. 

But in the end you never see 

How plug and socket pair.