Kid, don’t you realise, you’ve been working for days,
with ironclad tunnel vision, your time does slip away,
I used to know your face, all I see now is a mask,
you’ve killed all your dreams, by completing all their tasks,
no time for you, no time for us, an android you do show,
being operational, both in heat and in the snow,
As kid, don’t you realise, you’ve been at it for weeks,
no more flesh upon your bones, for I can see the leads,
I can’t hear you breathe, or your laugh anymore,
when you spread your worth, all over the floor,
a walking talking pendulum, that doesn’t seem to stop,
but nature will remind you, that you are not the clock,
For kid, don’t you realise, you’ve been occupied for years,
in place of veins, that pump the blood, all I see are gears,
thrusting so violently, your heart will sure explode,
I see you look at me, with achy red eyes that glow,
then at that moment; you drop your tools, as if they’re falling rocks,
as you can no longer tolerate, the stench of smelly socks!
-
Author:
AuburnScribbler (
Offline) - Published: August 9th, 2023 11:19
- Comment from author about the poem: Though this poem has some clear sad tones, about the relentlessness of industry, and the way it dehumanizes people, I do hope, that there is some underlying comedy, as believe it or not, this one is about children. The poem acts as both a warning to remind them, not to be robots, but also, I hope to raise a little laugh, in particular with the last line and the actual title of the poem. I hope that you enjoy the poem, I hope that you have clean smalls on today, and as always, please do stay safe everyone.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments2
My friend, I grew up in an age when children were in fact children. We do seem to condition them these days to be productive workers and consumers. Children, whose parents plan their days and weekends from infancy, teachers who plan their evenings filled with homework, coaches who stress that winning is everything. Where is the freedom to just enjoy being a child? In doing they are deprived of one of the most important stages of growing up. And as they are trained, so they grow up to be, and teach their children. The industrious gears of life roll on. Would that those smelly socks came from a long day of playing, exploring and learning about life. I applaud your intuitive verse dear poet, so very well done!
Thanks for the read Bella, and your evaluative comment, I wholeheartedly agree with, not only with children, but with people in general, the strain of humanity pretending that they are robots, to perform functions, leaves a lot to be desired, in particular in the medical sector, where junior doctors are either dying of exhaustion, or taking matters into their own hands. Let children be children, and let people be people. I just hope that those smelly socks are a clear reminder of the stinky mess we're in, and could entertain a change, of not only the socks, but in the way we run things.
Thank you for your very kind words, and I hope that all is well.
LOL this is another magnificent poem from you, yes in some places dark but only because my own father was a coal miner in Yorkshire when he was about 8/9 years old how times have changed my worst fear is the cell phone and the tablet and so on, children of today if left to their own devices can truly lose the will to even walk let alone run, or ride a bike I've seen it. Yes your last lines bring a fabulous chuckle 🤭❤️
Thanks for the read and for favouriting this poem Teddy.15, it's very much appreciated.
I know a few people from the great county, and they all appreciate a bit of dark humour, and in your commentary above, I very much agree with the injudiciousness of the choice, to be hooked on technology, rather than explore their own nature and the nature around them.
I'm glad that you had a little laugh at the end, thank you for your very kind words, and I hope that all is well.
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