She lived in a world where she could hideaway.
Shielding yourself from the world was easy when you’re prey,
Shedding not a morsel of her guard, to come out and play.
Today the glory of a screen holds more attention,
The bright lights in her eyes don’t shine as bright as the power in her hand.
Tumultuous coming of age stories are embedded in the palms of the young.
Under the dazzling sparkle of a group you won’t find her,
Underachiever high scores are what make the night shine.
Very little can be done in this day and age.
Venomous companies latch on to the prey,
Very little is accomplished, when sucked into the palm of your hand.
(Going to include some of my pictures with my poems now)