Drizzling Raindrops
Drizzling Raindrops
Sitting here, listening to the
soft sound they make on the
fence.
Lulling myself and my pen
into a silent, secret trance.
Dreaming of days long ago!
When people valued each
other!
Far more, than a white screen,
that ripped out the heart of
each other, in an AI's dream.
How ironic we will not talk on
a telephone anymore!
Heaven's no~
It is a task we abhor!
Do we really believe we are
free from Death's rapacious
knock on our door?
.
Don't you get how totally short
life really is?
Or do you think that when dead,
then, and only then, will you
have the time to speak?
What a sad, tragic, heartbreking
and intellectual mystique!
November 21, 2019
Copyright © Panagiota Romios | Year Posted 2019
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