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DANCE OF THE SOCIAL VAMPIRES
We come out from the time of in between
the spark of life and where life's not so clean,
we make our habitat a place for you
to lay in love, and know love's coming to
a plague of life, like you have never seen.

All in our virtual reality,
that's never here, but goes on constantly,
all minds do meet and join in cyberspace
and make us all as one, the hyper-race,
who love the dark and how it sets us free;

and if our love won't come to self destruct
from bytes upon our necks, where blood is sucked
our nourishment, where death has made her claim
and put us here, each one, to look the same,
in just a flash of time, our lives are shucked.

Plain faced, and lacking any shame,
we come and go, refusing rules of game,
and excevate our bowel, where children walk
and rob the poor, for just some idle talk,
refusing to admit we are the only blame.
© ron wilson aka ron arbuthnot
aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

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