Peccadillo

Come watch the sky turn ashen gray
And view the view as day fades away
Notice the lights flicker below on paved roads
For the cars flow like blood
Into the woven arteries and veins

But who ventures outside anymore?
Can you name a few?
Most stay inside creating their own artificial nights
Picking the colors of glowing screens over twilight
While the heavens mourn over unappreciated art

Let’s not forget what used to be…
Creativity
Individuality
Originality

Yet when people are not people,
But are numbers,
Consumers,
And failed models of Barbie and Ken
Who has the time?

The electronic gods beckon and call
Its worshipers continuously fall on knees to pray
With glasslike stares become devoted priests

So its rush rush rush
Buy buy buy
No one stays home just to be
And no one sees the sky