Analysis of I confess, I’m stymied.

Each morning they
troop out their doors
Attentions bent to internet.
The little screen
Has grabbed their face
And pulled them from
A better place.

The grand outdoors
The brand new sun.
And robin song.
The little children
To their schools.
The dog walkers
With brisk a pace
But no, the little
Tap screen rules.

Once time held place
For pleasant talk
For greetings as the
Day was birthed.
But now a mesmeric
That traps.
This stumbling met
Around the Earth.