I used to walk where willows weep,

Beneath the skies so wide, so deep—

But now I sit with thumb in flight,

A thousand scenes in pixel light.

The rustling leaves, the birds in song,

They fade as reels go rolling on.

Each swipe a spark, a fleeting thrill,

Yet leaves my restless soul unstill.

No longer do I chase the breeze

Through amber fields or ancient trees;

Instead I chase the perfect frame,

A looped escape that feels the same.

The sun still paints the hills in gold,

The river sings, the air is bold—

But all of it, I scroll right past

For curated joy that doesn’t last.

What have I traded, what did I lose

In choosing likes instead of views

Of mountaintops or ocean's roar,

Of barefoot walks on forest floor?

The world still waits with arms stretched wide,

While I press play and stay inside.

Perhaps tomorrow, I'll reclaim

The song of Earth—not just its name.