Blue Collar Hearts, White Collar Control
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I am not feeling particularly creative
This land has sapped me dry
No one can change who they are
There is nothing else to become
At the inopportune moment
Man discovers his true purpose
Cannot step out of it
The stepping stool for your ascension<br
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This land of digital apathy
Interfacing instead of interaction
We’re all androids in our Sim cities
Plugged into Big Brother, taking orders
America, not what it once was. If it ever was
Our heroes have become a fallacy
Captain America is dead, the America he defended
Doesn’t exist anymore
It is truly a pleasure to come back here and read your work. But it looks like both of us have been suspiciously absent for awhile…My life has been consumed by work and exhaustion but I have been keeping a notbook by my bed for the past couple of months and I have kept writing. Now I just have to transfer all of it from paper to my diary. I hope this note finds you well. Keep in touch. As always
Warning Comment
It is truly a pleasure to come back here and read your work. But it looks like both of us have been suspiciously absent for awhile…My life has been consumed by work and exhaustion but I have been keeping a notbook by my bed for the past couple of months and I have kept writing. Now I just have to transfer all of it from paper to my diary. I hope this note finds you well. Keep in touch. As always
Warning Comment
It is truly a pleasure to come back here and read your work. But it looks like both of us have been suspiciously absent for awhile…My life has been consumed by work and exhaustion but I have been keeping a notbook by my bed for the past couple of months and I have kept writing. Now I just have to transfer all of it from paper to my diary. I hope this note finds you well. Keep in touch. As always
Warning Comment
You are going to laugh at this comment Mr. Lefthanded poet, but I have never knew what interfacing was and probably never will. It has nothing to do with the poem , except for your one word choice but that is what thought is consuming my mind.
Warning Comment
You are going to laugh at this comment Mr. Lefthanded poet, but I have never knew what interfacing was and probably never will. It has nothing to do with the poem , except for your one word choice but that is what thought is consuming my mind.
Warning Comment
You are going to laugh at this comment Mr. Lefthanded poet, but I have never knew what interfacing was and probably never will. It has nothing to do with the poem , except for your one word choice but that is what thought is consuming my mind.
Warning Comment