Don’t feed the birds
they would warn;
but the old man kept throwing seeds
and bread crumbs.
It gave him something to do
some way to give back
but now they are gone.
The only birds left
are the ones on the iPads.
You can look at them
but they make no sound.
Nothing but images
of days gone by;
and they don’t love.
Just memories
of a world we destroyed.
Now the old man is gone too
and the benches are bare
and nobody sits
and nobody stares
at life.
this is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers.
SightsnBytes 