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Poetry

This Is Not Life

Life is meant to be lived.

They asked if I was depressed
and I told them the truth;
of course I am –
how could I not be.
Humans are social creatures
and I am a human,
therefore I am a social creature,
and now I’m forced to live my life
In front of these monitors.
I can only see other people and places;
I cannot touch,
I cannot feel,
I cannot taste
or smell.
This is not living.
A robot in my chair
would be more productive –
and it would never get depressed.
Of course I am depressed I said;
how can I be otherwise?

Creative Commons License
This poem by Suzette Seveny is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

By Suzette

Writer, reader, player, procrastinator, bossy pants, and slightly weird.

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