Digital World
Greasy slick hair cover,
Buried face into the Wall Street Journal.
Battleground of numerous wars,
Breakfast table.
Wifeless he see,
Another stranger off the street sharing his domain.
Muted out,
Issue of the day,
In the office,
Destiny awaits.
Enough of the meaningless,
Lover of his soul,
Swept away in one handful.
Laptop briefcase,
Under his arm,
Leaving the weeping,
In desperate acts.
All or none,
Breathing deeper the golden rule.
Red eyes of number figures,
Greater passion to crush his colleagues.
52 floors,
Sitting in his kingdom,
Overlooking the city of ants,
Viewpoint thinking.
Secretary walks in,
Never hiding her smile.
"Look like I'll be working late tonight."
"My husband? Worry not! Why should you!"
Lifting up her skirt.
He laughs the fear into the abyss.
Ticking of his heart slowly faded many decades passed.
Replaced with the quietness buzzing,
His world,
Just arrived at,
No-
Went digital years ago.
Copyright © Mark Hansen | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment