The waste spreads far and wide, as far as we can see

Even when we look, it’s really all we choose to see

Where once were life and color and exploration

There is now hate and ruin across each nation

Crime, torture, death, destruction, the weak cry

While the world around simply runs them by

There is no pain to see the starving and sick

When we can change the channel with just a click

What’s the password to the internet?

I’m starving, Mom, when will we eat next?

I guess I’ll just have to buy another Mac

The soldiers will be here soon, we have to pack

If I could change something, it’d be this:

To rid of the world of its apathy would be my fix

On their couches and in front of their screens

This addiction has gained a blinding sheen

They do not see that their world of so much potential has turned into a hell that could be stopped, prevented, avoided, fixed,

but they do nothing because they can’t put down their phones and their iPads long enough to see any of its

glory or its beauty or its majesty;

they only see that they’ve got another follower and a low battery.