Day after day I bite my tongue. I watch the inflated egos of the "chosen one".
Day after day,* oh reader, I read for fun. But there's greatness here, wit there, and some I wish I had never begun.
Day after day I log on. I type, I edit, reword each work until it frees truth from my soul.
Day after day, I wonder, How does spam become trending? A sign of the times, Advertisement disguised as rhymes? Or maybe a sign our time* is ending.
Day after day, is there anyone even reading? I'd love to know, what makes you read or go. Are the clicks of your mouse on these little hearts misleading? Or is the only reason, for you fleeting Devotion to this site your " poetic " **ego?
I write for "we". For there is no importance in art that only affects self.