I click the keys
And the keys click
Under ten fingers;
Apart of me.
The screen lights up my face
In all the uninspiring ways
Archetyped by this
Digital age.
I use a white mouse
On a grey table
In my school's library
To move the black mouse
On the screen, towards the scroll bar.
My breakfast
Was digested a few hours ago
And it's contents are now ATP
And amongst all this chemistry
Feelings are transported from the heart of my mind
And out of the darkness, the find
Themselves on the path to death
Through the rivers of my veins
Ending at my fingers, in vain.
DELETE.
I have made a mistake.
But, I can correct it
In the time I take
To make another one.
SPACE.
It is the largest key.
I press it constantly.
It is the largest key
Because it can see
Everything that needs
To be separated in the
World that is sees;
Sepia world around me.
LETTERS.
The tips of my fingers
Which I covered in bandaids
The class before this
Whisper sweet, but lonely nothings
To the buttons that I somehow can press.
The letters, they can't speak
They are being limited by
The very few things one can be limited by
Either your sociatives of the psyche of your mind.
And they are being limeted by me.
And my whole society.
We've enslaved them since the very
Earliest stages of recorded history.
But, now, in this digital age,
They are not given value of wage.
Vowels are abused
And constonants written off
By amatures
And idiots
And by square shaped rocks.
Islands.
Maybe this is how we tell our story.
Through these posts of poetry.
Maybe this is our performance,
Making the very air that waves travel
Our poorly built stage.
Maybe this brightly lit candle
Will not be as brief as they say.
Click, click and post a poem. Very amazing task this is. Wisely drafted and shared.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Strange poem, but that's just my opinion. keep writing.
keep your opinions to yourself