Hi-Tech

Hi-Tech

A time comes,

To hide behind

A camera’s eye

The need to hold still

To capture that moment

And dispassionately reflect.

And a time comes

To pull the plug

To let everything out

To stop a washing machine’s

Gurgling sound, when

Everything inside churns.

And sometimes to break out

Run away till be alone,

To stop voices inside the ears

Coming in ceaselessly

From earphones of a walkman

Tied around the head.

And a time to crave

For a look at the sky

When inside a lift

Made for eight

Stuck down in the

Middle of two floors.

And a time to wish

To be able to fly

While standing on top

Of a mountain at sunrise,

Above squarely colored fields

Wearing slip proof shoes.

But will a time come

To be able to realize

There always will be

An unfulfilled wish,

When the VCD ends

Re-trapping you in real world.