Mad Hatter

I fell down a hole, And here I am. Sitting at a desk made of fake wood. My eyes always darting to my old friend on the wall. Shift my right leg, then my left, I'm itching to get out. It's like standing in front of a locked door, And scraping your nails as you slide against it, All the way down. But I found the keys to the kingdom, And it lies in this little machine. I can search and search and search, And the world unfolds to me. I'm told technology is not needed, That's it's a pointless distraction. Please, let me ask you this: While I'm in that desk sitting and waiting, The clock ticking away, Why is my mind empty? Why are my eyes worn? They told me that the system would teach me all that I need, But I've got the world in my hand. I don't know a Mr. Brown, a Ms. Johnson, or a even Mr. Taylor. My teachers are Instagram, Tumblr, and Twitter, My lessons lie in YouTube and Hulu and Netflix. With this I can open that door. To them I'm mad as a hatter, For knowing just a little bit more. And realizing that this little machine Has taught me more than looking at the board.