Should I wait ‘til sunrise for my big Toy Surprise?
I could do breakfast now while erupting in bed.
No one else needs to join me. From in my small room
I can text who I want to to postpone the gloom
That would otherwise show me that I am mislead.
If I have to be friendly, then can I be wise?

It began with the boomers – those crafted amid
Times of rectification of their perceived wrongs.
They invented invention, then put it on stage.
Those who followed have carried us to a new age.
A deep inherent restlessness clearly belongs
In the process evolving as it always did.

Wherein lies the excitement? Within the device?
That seems somewhat perverted, yet it matters nil.
Such may be said of my complicated machine.
Had I contact with others, I wouldn’t be mean.
Do the toys that I play with rob me of free will?
Need I have them to know if I’m naughty or nice?