My diary's full; sometimes I yearn
For a little time to call my own
Should I disconnect my 'phone?
I contemplate our generation
Unable to resist temptation
Wired for sound on Internet
And only happy when they get
A “ping” or “buzz” straight in their ear;
Oblivious of others near
They chatter in a hundred tongues
Brussels' Tower of Babel hums!
Business eats up our free time
Fellow workers stay on line
And fire off emails late at night
Relentless pressure – is this right?
What's happened? Why this frantic pace
Where peace of mind has lost its place?
No turning back - we've reached the edge
The treacherous thin end of the wedge ...
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
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