Last evening I went to a party
To enjoy silly games with my friends,
To gaze in their eyes and avoid all the lies
That daily the Buy Stuff Guild sends.
But when I arrived at the meeting
I found my compatriots dead
For they talked as robots, just of things, not of thoughts,
Comparing what their Facebooks said.
Now I wander the streets, I the phoneless
Through the crowd who feel proud of their debt.
Is there still a someone who is friends with the sun,
To whom strangers’ hellos are no threat?
Though I may be lost I still wander
And my home is wherever I’m free.
As I whistle alone, just a man with no phone,
I hope that you’ll smile back at me.