There was a time when everlasting poetry made
a human soul shudder in relief
and healing hearts were made possible
and lost minds were brought back to life.
Everything was possible back then.
When we weren't captured by the idea of perfect
and free minds roamed under the dew of forests
and fingertips met more with fingertips rather than touchscreens.
I can imagine that world
I can dream of it
but I can't picture it in front of me.
It's impossible now—a time of pre-de-evolution
cannot go back,
not even if its habitants begged enough.
We used to pop bubblegums rather than pills
We would flop on picnic towels rather than couches in front of black mirrors.
We would read rather than swipe at night.
We would call out rather than call.
It was different.
All the tortures used to join as one.
Group meetings of encouragement and support
rather than video calls and fake screens of emotion.
All the tortures now come as one in front of glass
where fake expressions are emojis
and dishonest words are letters pressed on a click
of the future.
About the Creator
Melina Giorgalletou
Just a college student from Cyprus, living in NYC, trying to find herself through words and writing.
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