Too much sugar it’s starting to hurt

Oh the beauty that you are,
So bounteous,
Amidst of course,
Fakes and bad replicas,

Do you like what I have made of you,
How I have taken you apart,
and flung out into the world,
For everyone to behold,

Or do  you dream often,
become nostalgic,
of the times,
it was difficult to get hold of you,

Where one good song cost not just money,
Not just time and manner of typing not even words,
But symbols in google,
Where you had to wrench your soul to find it,
To get hold of it,
Where a book meant more than a book,
Where it was a culmination of perfect happenstances,
And running your fingers through the spines,
Made your heart stop for a while,

Now everything is sprawled out in the open,
And I can't decide, 
If you are still there,
Or cooped somewhere,
When I see a beautiful woman,
Naked, smoking cigarettes with her perfect fingertips,
In a R rated movie,
When the most amazing music,
Becomes an anthem of terrorists!

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