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"Working Game" by Loneal

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Lethargic tainted Uselessness
is misdirecting promises
Time's top-hat tipping, howdy do,
while black and white just stare at you.

Life's a game, or so they say,
as seconds tic-tock-tack away
with every hour, you earn XP;
what skill would make a better me?

Droning fans and chilling air
keeps hardware cool and unaware
of how this tech disdains them so
hold on: that's more than need-to-know.

Random thoughts float thru these hands
while Doubt just nods and understands
that choices made lose reason fast
and bliss can never really last.

What to do? Which way to turn?
Where can I make this spirit learn?
I know there's more than work and play
but I don't know how to find that way.

-->Loneal aka Syn.Dark.
-->16Apr2007, 2028L (KU)



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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/95/97135 on Saturday November 22nd, 2008 11:11 AM

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