Separated by years,
But also by fears.
By changing attitudes,
This generational divide,
Divided by a techno cyanide.

Like a zombie curse
Or something worse.
Glued to their phones,
Decaying cells in their mind ,
More and more become unkind.

Like sluggish snails,
Their memory fails.
Their luddite ways,
Society's loss they mourn,
In this techno killing scorn.

Youth's lost connection,
Their fatal distraction..
Yet they may well wonder,
In their solitary bubble for one,
What they've lost, and what's been won?

Yet, the elderly have each other,
Kindly care for sisters and brothers
Content with all the simple things,
In a connected loving way.
Gracefully awaiting their final day.

Let's jump right back to the start,
To ask which duo has a heart?
And which seems so distantly cold?
In this tale of generational divide,
Though so near they've chosen sides.