If aliens came down from space
And looked at the human race
Not long after leaving our bed
They’d see us sitting and staring ahead
In comfortable seating
Facebooking and Tweeting
Then seeing what everyone’s said
And so then it is time for employment
To leave our mindless enjoyment
But are we all heading off for the soil?
And engaging in strenous toil
No it’s the same old scene
As we sit at the screen
There is little energetic deployment
The aliens are all waiting to see
The human evening activity
Will we perhaps play the flute
Or dissect a small newt?
But again we are seated
The pattern’s repeated
From the screens we never seem free
If they returned after three generations
Will we all be zombied crustaceans?
Would books all be tossed
And reality lost
Or will the screens be rejected
And new life injected
As we again feel nature’s vibrations
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