Hanging around with my processed, plastic friends,
having fun. Seeing their liquid crystal eyes light up,
backlit, burning bright.
Communication through rhythmic finger taps
on plastic painted keys.
I no longer need to nod my head in signs of affirmation.
I merely click “Likes This” instead, oh wondrous wonders.
My friends know my business
through globally transmitted updated statuses
and comments.
A human touch replaced with an online ‘poke’
or typed out as *hugs* on some soulless display.
I want your gentle arms,
clasping around me, securing me, in safety.
Not some Times New Roman text.
My voice is shy, yet my ears are all too willing
and I want to hear your melodic songs of speech.
I like the open, the air,
the world surrounding me, as your arms before.
Not some life through a screen.
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