weapons of mass distraction
Screens glow like altars.
We kneel, thumbs twitching
prayers to gods of noise.
The loudest silence is
the one we scroll past.
Billboards bloom
like invasive flowers,
their petals of neon
masking the stars.
We are armed not with rifles,
but with endless feeds,
notifications detonating
in the pocket. The war is
not for land, but for attention.
Somewhere, a child waits for
a story that is not interrupted
by a ringtone.
The weapon is simple:
keep you from yourself.
Poetry by anonface
Read 101 times
Written on 2025-12-05 at 18:18
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Sona |
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Melinda K Zarate |
