Reruns
I live my life by watching it all pass
In thirty minute increments—in shows.
I'm feeling tired from sitting on my a**.
I don't go outside. I've heard fresh air blows.
I'm encapsulated and contained by my chair
In a world scripted and superficial:
Mem'ries manipulated for a stare,
Pixelated by blocks of commercials.
What I see is what I want… maybe not.
I prefer to watch… oh, I like watching
My melting brain cryogenic'lly caught—
Now, no more are the baby thoughts hatching.
Instead, I repeat myself in reruns,
An endless cycle of prepackaged fun.
I'd change the word if not for the rhyme scheme.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.