These white spaces we
inhabit
between the lines of conscious communication
The white mist surrounding the headlines
that spell murder, doom
the promise of the words that will
fill our emptiness in the eternal void
of this online space
We see with eyes that are not our own
Hear with ears that are their's and
also pictures, colours and words
distant lands are no longer exotic they
are ours and broadcast daily in our homes
Each night we lay down
and recharge in our pods
and when the morning comes with a new day
we are still too bored to care.
A collection of poems and musings by a rookie poet and constant dreamer - J.O.S.H
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