It’s impossible
Not to feel slighted
As I’ve swallowed
Such doses of silence
Like a poisonous grief
Unrelenting
When all others
Find happiness close

In their media feeds
Posting pictures
And everyday texts
Disingenuous
For showing off love
Barely grateful
But always too late
Looking back

Where memories rest
Under pavement
Now walked at night
Growing lonely
Watching nearby streets
Erect graveyards
Still faster than age
Could allow

From these friendships
Fading through whims
After blocking lives
Using cellphones
Once held so dear
Even family
Seems detached
Pressing fingers on keys

Losing precious times
Playing tricks
Forgetting our games
Between tables
Or across TVs
Like we treasured
During analog years
Become myth

Knowing hurt
Has made me irate
Wishing hope stayed home
Behind windows
Hiding empty bars
Called the present
Surely sad
With tomorrow outside.

• J. Pigno