WE ARE DIGITAL

We Are Digital

Heaven, help us

For we are digital

And do not know

How to wind a watch.

Heaven, help us

For we are spoiled

Born into electricity

And terrified of a candle's spark.

We are such driven people

Driven here, driven there

We don't know how to walk anymore

We don't know how to use our feet.

Babies come into the world

Reaching for cell phones

Knowing the words to songs we've forgotten

Dancing the latest dirty dances and old.

Heaven, help us

For we are set on automatic

We respond in kind to deadened emotions

React as our programming dictates.

Heaven, help us

For we are milk-fed, soft-handed ingrates

We think that the world owes us everything

When we haven't earned a space yet to stand.

Our lives are played out on mp3 collections

Our music lives in the pockets of our jeans

Our souls are compartmentalized, our hearts, cold machines

And our spirits are hybrid, cloned things, not of God.

What do we do then, when the lights go out?

How will we live? What will we eat?

Where will we go when they hunt us and kill us?

How will we survive when the wolves rule the streets?

Heaven, help us

For the magazines tell us

That we're destined for greatness

And the history books tell us that we're destined for doom.

Heaven, help us

For we see the armies, and not the man

We see the forests, and not the tree

We think in plural and "greater good."

Gone are the days of clear blue skies

And smog free air

Our lungs are full of chemicals

That the drug lords sprayed up there.

Tonight, I sit by candlelight, writing

Trying to put my heart on paper

For somebody to find and read when I'm gone

And I hope that they will, before it's thrown on the fire.

Somebody in an unborn generation

Will have to discover that marvelous thing all over again: Fire

It's beauty, it's warmth, it's terror

For today, even the candle lights are fake.

Tomorrow, they will build igloos

Out of unplugged microwave ovens

Sleep in old bath tubs and bathe in the streams

Tomorrow, they will not know what we took so for granted.

Heaven, help us

For we are digital

We are numbers with faces

And we walk in our sleep.

Heaven, help us

For we are blind and bereft of love

We have made a mess of this beautiful planet

Turned it into hell as you watched from above.

©By Voo

Oct 13, 08

9 p.m.