Where have all the children gone
The play grounds never used
The running and the hide an seek
Counting and laughing in two's!
In it's place a lighted screen
Friends of cyborg space
No more little tree house
No more club or meeting place
The basket balls bound in the wind
The swings flow with the breeze
No more rolling in the grass
down the hill, with grass stain knees
Rover looking hopeful, at the door
While they feed a virtual pet
No need for an umbrella
They never go outside to get wet
But in front of the PC tube
Is where they will stay
Hypnotized by this silver screen
Is where they want to play
by Cathy E. Hodgson
Yes, it is too bad!