Veneers

Yorke



We travel so far,
plagues in the jetstream,
bugs in the mainframe,
a glitch,
a worldwide bitch,
an unscratchable itch.

We are caught,
like an insect,
trapped beneath a glass,
on a window,
nowhere to hide,
all for best,
all for scrutiny,
to be examined,
under the microscope,
under the hammer,
under the glare,
and for a moment there...

...I lost myself.

  • Author: Yorke (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 14th, 2015 17:13
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 16
  • Users favorite of this poem: melisa alpizar
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