Tech-no-air

• Lulu Ghattas, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2017

Trapped in our own bubbles. Our own routines.
Every day, every night, we try to hold tight, onto what seems to be the past.
Imagine. The journey of a butterfly's erratic flight, Makes everything seem...perfectly alright.
The fragrance is blessed So clean...so fresh. Now how sad is it that you have to imagine
Something that used to be taken for granted, A world that was truly enchanted.
It's a new way of living, we say we couldn't live without it,
But is it that hard? To fight the urge And play your own cards
What's the point of the sun making the world bright .when we already own 4.7 inches of light?
What's the point of meeting your friends when you have 10 fingers to type with instead?
What's the point of going outside, breathing in the fresh air?
Because the online world honestly doesn't seem to care.
The world is slowly being cropped and chopped. To make room for what we haven’t got.
The air's so crisp, you toe start to shake, And in that moment you truly feel awake.
Words can’t describe this feeling of fresh air, but what does that matter….
The online world doesn’t care.