There's an old wooden table
dated by the rings left by glasses
fake orchids add the perfect touch
for these conversations through the cable
we talk for hours with our hands
through letters on a modern screen
our emotions have been replaced just so
someone else can understand
we're so close but so far away
separated by square inches of a room
since when did we become so consumed
in these artifical friends everyday?
and who's to say that i'm immune
as I put my thoughts in cyberspace?
and who's to say that you aren't too
when these words have got to you this way?
we're subjected to the art of reason
but we fail to question anything that contradicts
yet we're living hypocritics
when we follow what's popular to believe in
history is made when we stand up for change
or do we give in to these devices?
maybe together both worlds are paradise
if we all knew how to use it the right way
as i stare off the screen and back to the room
my flowers are still in bloom
everything is still in it's place
as we're creating these cyber tombs
Always, Lainey
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