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Freeform poem on the addictive nature of technology. |
| Sedation Come lay you down in a bed of ease, A mattress of soft computer keys. The liquor of LED light The flickering monitor of altered sight. The world out there makes it hard to stand Its splinters pierce non-toughened hands. The wind it blows too clear and keen And one can be too easily seen. The fan that cools the chip just so Is more than enough your fever to slow And if it’s not, well then, is it wrong To remain a frog in a soon boiling pond. |