A little boy behind a big screen

By Pancho Symes

A little boy behind a big screen

With headphones plugged in

The world is unseen


The shutters drawn

The room dark

The boy forgets to mourn

The world he is making stark


His eyes are marbles

His face paper white

His hair is inky black

His heart is getting cold


A little boy behind a big screen

All his life

the sun is unseen


Outside is a faraway dream

A dream for a boy who forgets how to dream


He doesn’t sleep

He doesn’t eat

But his perception is asleep

And his obsession is overfed.


He sits forever in the shadow

Of an ethereal green light

The ethereality of a computer screen

Eclipsed by artificial bright

While decaying in eternal night


His thoughts are the tap-tap of the keyboards

His feelings are the simulated colours on the screen

His heart beats to the drum of radiation

His soul flickers like a computer out of charge

About to run out


And what happens to the little boy?

Whose screen is his reality?

Whose simulated salvation is his humanity?


Surely the prospect is as black as a dead computer screen…






Never a broken bone

A bruise

A bloody nose


Not a freckle or a burn

Never touched by the sun


Not a single stain to behold

This soul that was sold…

To a screen


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