the click clack of keys
eyes straining at screens
I feel so old fashioned, fingers penning away on plain paper
while they type their vision away, feeling foreign to writing utensils
that are so sacred to my hands
the art of computing
its not the difficulty
but the lack of desire to learn
soon our species connected to wires
muscle fused to metal
veins pulsing battery acid
brains hardwired to a motherboard
virus checking the files in our heart
defragmenting images of the past
firewalling our weakness called mortality
when our vision is entirely digital, how will we accurately predict equipment malfunction?
how will we ever be protected from the malicious attempts of a bitter electronic body?
what would be done to prevent hacking into your head?
what if they deprogram your hard drive labeled life?
will it be possible to reboot reality?
or will they shut down your world?
I hope the future finds us fossilized
natural life forms wandering obliviously
over our graveyards full of mechanical monsters
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