You
You should know by now
that your flashing cursor
lives in a temporary domain

That you will only
remain silent
between chatting neurons
and won't live to see
the day 10 years
from now

I'll be sipping from
champaign flutes,
you'll gather dust,
and your color will fade
by the sun without guilt
nor remorse

Your logo is a curse,
a badge,
that reads
Hello My Name Is:
existence temporary.

for you don't know me
nor the font I choose
you don't feel these words
like I do

You think your so
perfect by correcting
the misspelled
and underlining
past mistakes

You can take your
fascists dictionary
and grammer
machine

and depart into
darkness
into
a cold
black screen