Yawn II
... sitting there,
a box out of a freshly new box,
sitting there as if monitoring me
instead of I, you,
and with a press of a button,
hearing your mind whir
feeling the need
to juxtapose a trillion things or more,
all for my use,
my entertainment
and yet,
the concubine presence uttered from your mind
gives me fits as you stall on me,
lock up,
freeze your creativity,
and you know this froths my inner being,
knowing there is naught I can do
but wait.
Yet, for all there is and will be,
the keys to your talents rest in front of me,
and with them we struggle together,
in this vast wasteland of ambiguous knowledge
that serves you no purpose,
and I, no real need of,
but we plod on,
ramping up the system,
being creative,
or not.
where do I go from here?
pen and paper,
my own thoughts, perhaps?
alas, where do we go from here,
when we have been everywhere else?
__________
Part One: Yawn, by MsH
can be found here: