To Replace the Old

This is a poem I wrote one day; it hasn't been revised at all and I need some critique. It's a fairly cliched topic, so pardon anything that seems so.

I watch her as she steps outside

for the first time in our world

her dress flutters in the wind

bare feet flow in the grass

she has slept for far too long

awakened in a new place.

He watches me, i know he does

a gaze beats into the back of my head

it's like I'm newborn

this world is just that strange to me

a place, a place out of a dream.

Skyscrapers no longer adorn the skyline

cities are frowned upon,

primarily out of fear,

no human desires to repeat the past  

computers are no longer in existence

music players are extinct

entertainment is nothing more than voices

either simply just tales 

or song of beauty.

It is peaceful

there is no hurrying to or fro

stress is nonexistent

working together

creating a new, better world

that is the only solution

for man's destruction has been great.

This world, it has made me see

i shudder at my long-dead friends

and the horror that they caused

how horrid must it have been to survive

that oh-so horrible warring time

civilization has finally caused it's final disaster.

She takes a step and i wonder

what does she think of all this

it is new to her

for she says she is old

her world has been destroyed

but, perhaps, it can be replaced with the new.