Like honest folk,
It parades online without a cloak.

Choosing the right watermark with care,
We sprinkle grams on Instagram to share.

Only our finest look we choose,
And post it daily on Facebook’s news.

As if we all had won a prize,
We flood LinkedIn with wisdom’s guise.

Whether our life is gold or fake,
We binge on TikTok, no time to take.

Two, three hours slip away,
We scroll and scroll, lost in the show,
Fascinated by these laughing souls,
Dazed, bewitched—we beg to stay.

Oh, hail the screen, our newfound god,
Beneath small and mighty fingers trod,
It spreads our lives, so neat, so bright,
Yet leaves us blind to stolen light.

Where is the time of childhood’s wonder,
Where joy would bloom in sun and thunder,
And screens had yet to pull us under?

A stone once made the perfect ball.
The scent of earth in pouring rain.
The thrill of midnight swims untamed.
Boots in puddles—splashing all.

The whisper of wind in swaying trees.
Clouds that shaped what we could see.
The tiny joys of history.

Where have they gone, those moments bright,
Once lived in present, full of light?

Where did that childlike wonder go?
When past held nothing to regret,
And future had not scared us yet.
When no one’s gaze had judged us so.

Oh, lost boys, playing Peter Pan,
What are we waiting for to stand?
To act before our time is through?
To lie, at last, with naught to do,
And wonder where the days all flew?

So hear me, honest folk, take heed,
No wealth can buy the joy you need.
It isn’t something to pursue—
Just turn and look inside of you.
Recall the child you used to be,
And once again, learn how to see.

Like monks from distant peaks have taught,
"Here and now"—the key once sought.

poetry,happiness,