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Rose Mar 22
Here I am in my cubicle
Grey and cold all the time
Counting the keys on the board
Killing my time
Men swaying on chariot machinery
Come and go
I nod to say hello
Avert my eyes
Til they pass me by
So as not to attract some idle mind
Ira Desmond Nov 2018
The downward momentum is clear to me now.
The engine has built up a full head of steam.
I’d try to stop it, if I knew how.

The fires of industry must burn on somehow;
they tend to burn brightest when fuel is extreme.
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

When currents are surging, we shouldn’t allow
the jingoist fringe to swim in the mainstream.
I’d try to stop them, if I knew how.

Civility means more than I can avow,
but poems can only allude to a theme:
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

Each click of a mouse that shouts holier than thou
is a cog in a treacherous clockmaker’s scheme.
I’d try to stop him, if I knew how.

We worshipped the circuit and forsook the plow
in search of a false technological dream.
Our downward momentum is clear to me now.
I’d try to stop us, if I knew how.
Rone Selim Feb 2018
We get so lost in this another world,
that is becoming our reality,
actually it has already started.
And it's scaring me.
Humankind has lost a sense of self, nothing is real anymore
and when nothing's real,
everything feels worthless.
Everything we constantly keep aiming for... but for what?

Did you ever stop and ask yourself;
what are you doing?
Why are you doing this and what for? What is real?
Is it your smile or your words?

Im frightened that this other world may be the end of us.
We will reach the bottom line aiming for the top, perfection.
There will be very little left of authenticity, if none..
Sienna Luna Oct 2015
Greased wheels, I knew you once.
I loved to balance like a child.

Roaming the paved streets; riding is like flying.

I knew you when the store held you back.
I chose you from behind handlebars with purple streamers.

Your tires silently carried me to classes,
each brake stop signaled that we were close to our arrival.

I sat on your worn black seat like I was on a throne of sorts.
Even though that seat is tattered with one rip on the side,
all I saw in you was my own **** pride.

Spokes, I knew you once.
I played your tune each journey that we went on.
No hill was ever tall enough, no road was ever too bumpy.

Gears, I knew you once.
Click, Lock, Click
sometimes you were tight and never let me ride
sometimes you were loose and my feet went flying ‘round too fast for me to catch
                     what you were doing.

I knew you once, when time was young.

— The End —