A Man... what is this thing?
Crazy conundrum of common cretins
continuously clammoring for connectivity
Blazing for attention
Digits
and
Fingers
For
Math, Nothing More!
Violating social norms, the norms we ourselves
hold dear, the norms that run
us
all into
CONFORMISTS!
A machine of ages, destroying
And
Crushing the subjective beauty in his path.
Maintaing a single point perspective
In a world of multi-point persuasions.
Machine of ages... for Joy, for peace..
NAY, for HATE.
This machine... some fixing it needs.
A twisted, cold, hard thing is he...
An original poem by David Michael McClain
