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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