A few things for themselves
We found, love and bewilderment
In the vastness of an anonymous world
We went online to disclose our loneliness
Our milk and honey blood that
Could not touch, the vast net of information
Florida, venereal soil, did we reach
The heat of our hearts that felt not
Bloodied not, from loneliness
We were not Sunday to the world
We were just lost, invisible, shinning
In our own minds watching ourselves
It wasn’t bad just the new normal
There might not be children or grandchildren
Just time, killing itself each decade
With slow thrum of oblivion
Deception, disruption, revolution
It wasn’t even about people anymore.
Wuji Seshat 