Coded Poem by DM W
Coded
Everyone has their own number
In the crude, glorified system.
Everyone has their own password,
To access tainted information;
Amidst the jungle of advertising,
And, seemingly, casual propaganda.
Many are turned on by notions
Of justice, freedom and passion;
As they exist in magazines.
Many see soft lights & roses;
While some see cages & mazes.
Some see their dream visions fading
In the swamp of the spectacle;
In the age of the hyper real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 7:54:38 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Great thoughts and a superbly presented poem on display Dominic. This modern age is frenetic with new technology running amok out there. There is free will for all, to choose or discard this or that, but I look around and see how many make the wrong decisions, they become cold, linear and distant to others feelings/ plight. And most worrying of all, they're starting young, blind or blinkered by modern life and tech. Thank you and10++ and added to favs. and hang in there Dominic.