He holds the mouse
Few codes
Computer became his muse
He eats and drinks with it

Now he talks of binary
In his dreams
Rare soft dreams forgotten
He only dreams of pinouts

Come and love me
I am out here on the periphery
writing poems
to the earth and sea

a ghost of a voice
barely audible
except on the breeze
if you listen carefully
you will hear it whispering
as sun touches sea
as rain starts to fall
as seasons change
as you lose your way

I am here
out on the periphery
listen carefully
I will not let you fall

driven by some unseen hand
the pen travels across 80 gsm
sometimes I manage to write things
even I don't understand.