A collection of predestined poems that were meant to be collecting themselves just beneath the surface.


4. Me

I am like the smartphone, neat and with the complex mind of pure mechanics

Without the intent of seeming lonely

I only interact when others feel like it

My closeness to people is important;

Connecting even in out thoughts can be nothing less than greatness

Ideas crash through my structure

In digits begging for creativity

My guidelines do spread confusion, though in the end,

This world leaves me be because I am me

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