at my Fingertips


 

write to wander 2

The anonymity of the life we’ve built

Purposes to hide behind the post of guilt.

It is the distance that remains unclear.

Blind faith in all that is neither here nor there.

A world becoming virtually…unaware.

We no longer feel the punish,

nor, the sin.

No further, does the spirit travel than idealistic begin…again.

Nothing penned for you that isn’t someone else’s truth.

No resolve in the lack of mystery behind our keys

and,

our board, spaces.

No, I knew love before it became a four letter word.

No more, open the window to feel the cold.

 

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