In this world wired to keep us connected,
We’ve never felt more forgotten.
Explore pages, reels, and feeds,
Swiping right across stories,
Leaving heart reactions in red,
But so much still left unsaid.
Once, eye contact used to mean something,
Now, we look, we scroll,
But we rarely see.
We exist in grids,
In captions,
Ending conversations with laughing emojis,
Even when nothing’s really funny.
We’re in each other’s network,
But not in each other’s lives.
Our touch now replaced by a tap,
Our eyes awaiting a ping,
Some part of us still hoping,
That someone will stop, will stay, will look.
Will see more than an aesthetic feed.
Walking around with an ache for a gaze,
That doesn’t scroll, but stays.
