There are only so many plates that can be spun,
ideas that can be followed,
and songs that can be sung.
Only so many emails one can read,
so many twitters, snaps and chats
that one can feed.
When what was once so clear
gets lost in digital shrapnel
that blasts the mind to fragments
and the vibrant unknown future turns to fear.
Time to stop and pause my friend,
for burnout happens
and then gods become men.
Copyright Faramond Frie © 2016