The West is suffering loss,

The death of conversation,

No questions asked, no words heard,

Just monologues deaf to my frustration.

Duologues enraptured me,

But such art has fallen rare,

I lament the death of two!

Am I alone in this “social” world in err?

Ne’er a question asked with sense,

Just words upon words upon…

Until all hope wilts away,

In this empty garden, where have the seeds gone?

I hear it all around me,

Relationships atrophy,

Dead is curiosity,

Desire met with apathy.

There is a great irony,

A lesson egos impart,

Listen less to empty words,

Take time to love you with what’s left of your heart.

I wrote this in the 16th century Spanish poetic form called an endecha, in five quatrains wherein the first three lines of each quatrain are heptasyllabic and the final lines are undecasyllabic. The second and fourth lines rhyme. The world is becoming lonelier as it becomes more social.