There once was a man obsessed with connection
that he worried he'd not have enough.
So he toiled each day to make a contraption
that would let him relive what he loved.

Through hours and seasons
and calendar pages,
he huddled and hunched on his bench.
While the world all around him
was blooming and growing and singing
with the laughter of friends.

Finally finished, he ran to the kitchen
and placed his contraption on top.
It kicked on with a whir,
it's projection unblurred,
and he sat for his life's great collage.

He blinked and it ended,
and he boiled offended
that his contraption had done him such wrong.
Because, instead of connection,
his pursuit of his obsession,
led to a life
all alone
in the garage.