A Change of ‘Screenary’
The meadow larks at the morning rise,
With golden sun up in the skies.
The winding lanes through fields of green,
And hedgerows guard the paths in between.
Sat by the fire, where the tales are told,
Of local mysteries that rumours unfold
The village green, the mayor stands proud.
Warm memories of the past so loud.
Intermedia
The mill wheel turned, the river ran,
The smithy forged with steady hand.
At harvest home the farmers stayed,
No one on mobiles and scrolling all day.
Chorus
Oh, times gone by in this our land,
We choose our memories by which we stand
The ones that fill our hearts with hope and joy
And forget then ones that can destroy
In social media they spout their views
Opinions not facts define the news
Nothing is real its all made up and fake
The future of community is at stake
Verse
Who remembers time when people would chat
They said good morning and tipped their hat
Now heads buried deep in a gorilla glass screen
You’re Invisible irrelevant and wont be seen