The Screen's Divide
The morning bell is silent now,
No rush upon the stair,
Just one bright screen upon the desk,
And silence in the air.
We log into the endless class,
A grid of muted faces,
A digital, two-dimensional world
In familiar places.
The clock hand spins, the work piles high,
The day is soft and slow,
It takes a different kind of will
To make the focus grow.
Self-discipline, a sudden test,
When couches call your name,
To manage time and find the fire,
To keep hold of the game.
But still, the signal falters fast,
The video breaks down,
A voice that chops, a message lost,
Throughout the busy town.
The Wi-Fi lags, the device freezes,
A barrier so great,
The Digital Divide appears,
Sealing a cruel fate.
We miss the shared and sudden laugh,
The quick chat by the door,
The little human energy
We never knew before.
A wall of glass, a lonely sound,
Where community should be,
We wait for when the world spins round,
And learning sets us free.
Copyright © Quincy Morales | Year Posted 2025
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