The World in Which I Live

Musings from my life – poetry and prose

I sit alone in my room
Only the light of this monitor on my face
Is this my lover?
I ask myself, is this my only friend?
The hard cold keys
click away as I touch them
And whisper the sweet nothings
That no one else can
This object has my attention
Only it feels my touch.
It tells me what I want to know
I decide what it says
There is no warmth
In this piece of hardware
No heart, no soul, no touch
Does this describe me, as well?

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