Silent Friends ghost in the ether of plasma screens

Silent Friends ghost in the ether of plasma screens;
when the phone line breaks down, ‘send a report online’.
The silence fills the space where human contact once was.

I see a vast ocean of silent friends coming,
friends that only come when you turn the electricity on.
The TV box tries to break that unholy silence but,
the only thing that really breaks,
is the heart of a 90 year old crying out for company.

Gone are the friendly chimneys’ that breathed smoke from a loving open fire. Gone is the Baker whose friendly whistle comforted the alone.
Gone is the milkman whose smile brought hope.

A new dictatorship of silence has come,
together with an indifference that chokes all feeling.

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