The Walking Dead

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Walking in the street. Back hunched over.
Head down. Sounds familiar?
Yeah, it's you. It's even me, also, sometimes. We've all been there.
Strolling through the city, crossing the pedestrian walk not paying attention to anything that's happening around us.
Nor do the drivers, they are maneuvering their phones more than the staring wheel.
Honking at you. Excuse me, driver, I didn't see you were on your phone, sorry for crossing the zebra walk. We are there physically but mentally we are somewhere far away. Our attention is absorbed by the little screen. It makes you become deaf and blind in a way. People not greeting each other, or avoiding eye contact while they speak. But hey, thank God they text each other at least! Revulsion. Makes me sick.
No more conversations filled with warmth or meaning, just texts, please.
Blind zombies using their phones to navigate their empty and shallow bodies through the city landscape without appreciating the beauty that surrounds them. Socially numb. Mostly dumb.
Digital zombies with no heart or soul.


Submitted: March 24, 2021

© Copyright 2021 RebelTemptations. All rights reserved.

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