Frog pudding and dilapidated doorways

Those frog pudding days
Just lead to dumpy doorways
Somethings gotta give

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/gate-old-stone-aged-decay-doorway-3718546/

Writing prompt: Frog pudding and dilapidated doorways

Puffed pastries and bric-a-brac

Familiar chapters
The lifestyles we all once knew
Alas gone from view

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/space-room-interior-empty-4231460/

Writing prompt: Puffed pastries and bric-a-brac

Loneliness

Loneliness
it comes in many forms
and I have known them all.
But I think the loneliest times
are when I’m surrounded
by a sea of expressionless faces.
Those empty-eyed, silent beings
always appear to be lost in
mind-numbing, alien-sweeping,
brain-snatching activity.
And if I stare intently enough,
focusing long and hard enough,
I can almost see those denatured
souls being surreptitiously sucked
out of every finger-tapping mortal
who has unknowingly fallen victim
to the technological advances
of our times.
It often leaves me queasy
and fearfully uneasy.
For I must admit that I too,
have fallen subject to the
interest of self-isolation
within the matrix.
Using it as a security blanket
for companionship
because community
no longer exists
within the confines
of my existence.
There are instances
when I do attempt
to turn the world around.
And with desperate breath
I try to disengage
from the illuminated rectangle
nestled nice and neat
between my pale palms.
But then loneliness sneaks in,
finding me once again.
And the screen in my hands
becomes the only life left
to be found.

© 2021 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/portrait-woman-black-and-white-2308893/