"blogging's all that they do all the time, happiness now is 'your friend is online'"
you kept a diary too, don't try to deny; now it's just easier to blog on the fly,
and yes, it does make me happy when i can see my friends; doesn't
mean every other feeling's come to an end,
but i can tell it's not the same for you; you opened your mouth and out the words flew,

"no-one really talks no more! our phones have made us all a bore!"
your very old friends from your very old school; you never talked too much after all of them moved,
and your foreign penpal's handwriting style; how the postman's bag contained your smiles,
remember how you wished you could talk each day; now we have texts and skype but all you can say is,

"texts are getting shorter, where's the communication? language wasn't made for 'brb', where are the conversations?"
look closer, take in the meaning behind every single 'ily'; adoration and compassion that makes love sonnets look silly,
each message between friends is a reminder of our care; i've been thinking of you, even when you're not there,
so even so, there's still so much meaning; yet you find so many complaints, and you begin your speaking,

"it's not the same when it's online! friendships, dating, it's just not real life!"
whether near or far, love knows no distance; you don't stop loving someone due to their location in the instant,
when it's true, love knows no appearance; you fall in love with hearts, you always know of a heart's existence,
and most of all, those in love know themselves well;
when you finally meet up, that's the most magical.

so go ahead, reader, write your hate letters to us;
just realize when you're using what you hate as your canvas.