Ballad of the Nomophobe
He leads us beside still waters, To stare at cell phone screens? This crack phonecaine narcotic, Leads far from evergreens,
It’s a visual soup of amusing tripe, A babbling feast of fleeting, A trivial endless stream of dross, to this place where You are leading,
Can I afford to be consumed, By fast-food for one’s brain, Or am I a living sacrifice, allowing seconds, minutes, hours to be slain?
Birthing isms within schisms, Virtue signaling bribes, This instrument of malice, Incarcerates people into tribes.
Videogameology, Please appreciate the threat, That devotion to a high score, Can be an encircling net.
Christ is not out played, By novelty of human hands, Service is His high score, Will that be the race we ran?