Society has evolved—
we want comfort,
soft edges to every sharp need,
frictionless living.
It became too much
to press a handle:
so we taught toilets to think for us.
They flush when we move,
they flush when we don’t,
they flush twice, sometimes thrice—
just to be sure.
Invisible circuits hum,
tiny sensors blink,
water rushes away
as if it were endless.
The cost?
the device, the maintenance, the power
and the rivers we never see.
It became too much
to turn a faucet off:
so we gave it eyes.
Cold steel watches our hands,
sometimes obedient,
sometimes confused—
spilling water when none is needed,
withholding it when it is.
Frustration drips
with every wasted second,
every wasted drop.
The cost?
the sensors, the maintenance, the power
and the dignity of doing simple things ourselves.
A restroom once built
with pipes and porcelain
now hums with wires and code.
What cost little before
now costs a fortune—
And still, we complain—
of infrastructure,
of expense,
of inefficiency.
But somewhere beneath it all
is a quieter truth:
Human effort seemed too expensive
so we replace it with automation,
Human awareness with assumption.
we forgot that convenience
is never free,
only prepaid by the planet.
The question lingers,
Was it really too much
Or have we simply
made the simple complex?