Technological Generation

I sit in a cultural wasteland
Filled with materialism
And idiocy
Little robots controlled by their phones
Those iPod addicts staring into space
Gamers slowly wearing down their thumbs
What a pathetic way to get
Calloused
Human moths blaring all the lights
Continually, whether night or day
They must have noise
Whether white noise or intended
Turn on the TV without a purpose
While surfing the net
For cheats to a video game
They’re currently playing
Too used to careful conditions
Used air-conditioning so much
They whinge in the heat
Even though they’ve been living in
A desert island
For every day of their technological lives
Computers now aid lessons
Outdated humble whiteboard
Now pushed aside
Buy technology one day
Discard it another
It’s not up to date any more
Who cares?
At least you have it