Common Room

Television screaming in shades of grey
A connection broke in two.
The usual music doesn't play
The scrambled signals don't get through.

People scream - they do not speak.
There is no understanding.
Anger rages; passions peak,
There seems to be no time for thinking.

A picture shines through,
At last a connection made.
But the flickering pictures we view
just expose this world's charade.

False faces, pretend emotions, we see
We join the masquerade.
But it was us that chose to watch TV -
this is the world we've made.