What the world became

The world changed sometime between my childhood and me growing up and I cant tell when.

I used to watch the cities fall on screen,
To lose myself within a scripted storm,
A fleeting escape from the day’s routine,
Where chaos took a cinematic form.
​I sought the comfort of a distant fright,
The crumbling towers and the darkened skies,
A way to step outside the real night,
And view the end through safely simulated eyes.
​But fading is the line that stands between
The silver screen and what the windows show;
The quiet echoes of the silver scene
Begin to mirror paths on which we go.
​The fiction bleeds into the daily news,
The quiet warnings whisper from the street,
And what was once a thrill we’d freely choose
Now walks beside us on familiar feet.