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Ken Mears Nov 2019
Technology marches forward,

Never stopping,

Technology marches forward,

Always progressing.


It permeates our homes,

It resides in our pockets,

The big company's own Sherlock Holmes,

Seeing deep within our lockets.


It gets us where,

We want to go,

Through the air,

Or through the traffic flow.


It runs our lives,

Leading us along,

Like bees in hives,

We follow it's rhythmic song.


Technology marches forward,

Not caring for its creators,

Technology marches forward,

As humanities technological dictators.
aesthenne May 2015
Folds, fur, creases and greases on your clothes
Have you had a nice breakfast?
No, no, it doesn't seem so.
You've had a bad day since you've risen from your bed.
Your hands are shaking and don't even notice it,
Probably because of the nicotine hidden in the left pocket of your jacket.
Ahh! Shut up! You were thinking! It's annoying!
Get out! Get out! I need to go to my mind palace!
Also, if you think that I'm a psychopath,
I'm just a high-functioning sociopath.
With your number! -smiles-

Oh, John Watson? You've got a limp from your last war from Afghanistan.
Your hand stays steady when you're suspicious or feel like you're being threatened.
Hmm, you like the battlefield, don't you, John?
Ahh, you can be my colleague! Come on, John!
Wait, what? Who are you?
The name's Sherlock Holmes and I live on 221B Baker Street.
And, I'm a consulting detective who uses,
*The Science of Deductions
A quick-written poem just for fun.

— The End —