The Glass in Front of You

You’re staring at a screen and liking what you see. It seems the world outside is merely a distraction from your reality. You stare down at the smudged screen, which somehow still gives you clarity, but the people that surround you, are blurs in the background. It amazes me how you’re so enticed by the millions of people whose faces you cannot truly see. It shocks me how your attention diverts from the present, which is staring you straight in the face, so quickly. Your eyes swiftly move across the words written behind the glass you hold, rather than sitting still and taking in the moment, as you stare into the eyes of another living being and listen to their melodies. A victim of caring less about those who surround you, and more for those who aren’t even around you. I know you don’t mean to, I know you never would, but it feels like the words that flow your way are a whisper in the wind that pass through you. An addict of the flickering images that lay an arm's length away from you, rather than embracing the one sitting right beside you craving for warm. Lonely. These people that are around you and hoping for your attention, become victims of their own kind, trapped in another glass cage that you’d never lay your finger on.