Aren’t I social?

Aren’t I normal?

Aren’t I the person you’d love to have a conversation with?

Aren’t I better in person?

Aren’t I better in person than a text in a book.

Aren’t I better than a message sent through a bird’s tweet.

Aren’t I better to share in your emotions than to snap away your motions?

Aren’t I instantly better in person than a four-sided gram of my being?

 

Aren’t I social?

Aren’t I being judged wrongly.

Aren’t I saying the right things?

I’m not against the new ways.

Neither have I embraced my new place.

I was once first but recently put to the next.

Aren’t I better in person?

Yet, when I’m in person, you bury your face in your palm to make me cringe with a fist.

Aren’t we better as a people with a conversation; a real one?

Aren’t I better off in a conversation with me not in being?

I proceed to answer, no! I’m not

Can we go back to a conversation where you ask about me through me to me than through elsewhere to me?

 

Aren’t I social?

Aren’t we brought up to be social?

Aren’t we in a new trend which makes us the reverse?

Can we go back to when the conversation was you and me but not petty chats over a communication tree?

When we meet, let’s go past the pleasantries into a conversation; to start one is free.

Weren’t we brought up to be social?

This new trend has made us rather antisocial.

 

Asford Psalms.