I am from the generation
that first grew up with the digital
while our brains were soft
enough to believe religion
like those before
but I am old enough
to remember the analog
and to contrast the two
unlike those after
that were spared the promises
that seemed so real
and I miss those early days
before discovering
all the ways
I could be wrong
I miss the feel of the hot leather
from the black cars under the sun
and the keys to open them
and the round silvery future
just around the y2k advert
that would consume us
I miss the sunburnt beige plastic
on the CRTs, and the mechanical sounds
of information traveling
and each isolated technology
independent, sovereign
before being infected
by the wireless connection
of convenience
my gameboys, my discman, my mp3s
my brick of a phone, antenna-free
and the early days of mIRC,
hi5, live messenger, xfire, myspace,
connection, friendship, expression
each year a promise of christmas
each invention innocent
before we had to worry of all the ways
it could be used against us
and I believe those of us then
now hold some strange key
interlopers, maybe wise
no longer free
hard earned scars
beyond this current reality
we may have the best of both worlds
as the worst
dinosaurs glued to cartoon TV
as we are desperate
and left behind
don't forget us
please.