John Bernstein

To The Dazed And The Wasted

You asked me to go - the TV washed away your voice.
You asked me to play - the sofa’s call gave me no choice
But to remain lying here, as I always do,
While time draws thin and thinner still on my bright youth.

You are the lifelong presence, warming the souls of every story
Of man, woman, and child, asking just that they bask in your glory.
You invite me out - slipping through my window your invisible arms,
But electronically do I slam that hole shut, return to the spin of virtual yarns.

And so the days turn into months, and saidforth turn to years,
And I decide to take a break, to see what it is my peers
Have done without technology, without artificials streaming through their ears.
    No sitcoms,
        No cartoons,
            No gameshows, no! Only the natural drears.

I step outside, far beyond the borders of my eternal place,
When you blare down harshly, swallowing my dark face.
I ask what it is I have done for this,
For certainly I am not of your kin,
But neither am I an enemy,
I’ve done to you no sin!

You staunchly reply, “You’ve wasted a life, and to no suprise
It is time I set on your weary eyes!”
And with that all goes dark:
    The moon and stars die,
        The blue skies fade to black,
         The hills and the rivers, they disappear! As if right through a crack.

In a world of such splendor, with so much potential,
I missed right out! And now its essentials
Are gone like the years I let slip away,
I cry out “No, please let me stay!
I’ve learned my lesson and I hope, I pray
That you’ll return me here for another day!”

        But you shake your head, and send for my grave.
                If only I’d just gone out to play.


Copyright 2002-2008 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2008 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.