30 Days of Prose: Day 7: Stack 'Em Up

Stack 'Em Up

Oh, such distraction now
as across from each other we sit.
Screens reflect on eyes, searching for something
so we can "Like" it.

A brunette sits across from her admirer
for what must be the thousandth time;
he can't take his eyes from her,
she can't seem to get offline.

Mother, father, daughter, son,
hoping to go out for some fun.
Yet as they sit for dinner
not a word is spoken, not one.
As they struggle for something
interesting to say,
each hopes for a new invite,
the new posts of the day.

Violence becomes a status.
Amendments become a share.
Sadness becomes a hash-tag
for strangers who can't truly care.

What's the point in connection,
the point in a voice,
when disconnected "friendship"
is ever the popular choice?