We are the poor, pitiful ones
Who lick our wounds in public,
Seeking validation, that
The performance has been noted,
And if responses are not forthcoming,
We post angry, bitter bulletins,
Demanding friends prove their worth
By joining in our tirades.
We are the face of America,
Torn between mirrors and television
And ask that we must not face
Our lives’ clawing desperation.
For we are unique and special,
Just like everyone else, and
If you will only pay attention
It will matter that we are here.
So come and join my friends list
And perhaps even make a comment.
I promise that if it’s convenient,
I will try to respond in kind,
And somewhere between the posting
And the waiting for canned replies,
The world will not seem so threatening,
Or insignificance such a bitter blow.
Kings Mountain, NC
July 22, 2006