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The more channels we have, the less we seem to convey |
Notifications Waiting for the bright blue light An urgent flash of green Digital the message flies Zeroes, Ones... unseen Conveyed upon lines, binary The letters swoop and fly Forming words so cautiously As sentences swing by Constructed so meticulous Coded to accord A Trojan's course, felicitous Loaded with import To be received and understood Decoded as was planned With channels often not so good Downloaded as it stands With notes lost in refinery A weakness that impedes A flaw within the binary It can't convey the need No matter how its wanted, yearned The soul oft can't traverse With envelopes and icons earned ... the things we lose are worse With LED's like star charts We navigate our nights Screens flashing through the dark parts, panicked, artificial lights Confirming memorandums Have reached their target safe And been relayed in tandem As the Chinese whispers chafe With communications scrambled By our ghosts in the machine Each light we see's a gamble A wish touched, heard... or seen Through third party devices Filtered blindly through a screen Organised and sanitised Normalised, sanguine A plea, binary, flashing In the darkness of our nights with hopes locked up in handsets … and urgent neon lights |