Concrete lives in swampland condos, The high-rise-underground express — Mind the view, your life Flies by fast, in seven easy steps. Birth, school, Work, procreate, Raise, educate, Then death.
Beware, though never in the mirror They're always there, Praying on the willing ear — These sympathy vampires with their Shallow scars and hollow tears.
I know you are still watching, By the counters on my feed — Look-don't-touch-me, come and love me, Zero-distance apathy. Show the world your worth, Truth or fiction — It's all the same to me.
Writings on the mirror, Projected onto me — Truth in layers, obfuscating What we're not supposed to see. Smiling for the camera, Eyes dead to the world, Smoldering within.
Light, a blinking cursor, Questions asked, unanswered — Are you there, Is this thing on? Reactions nor compassion — Drive-by clicks to like my pain, And then they're gone. Are we still live? Are you still there, Is this thing on?
