Raw data swirled around my head;

I should have been in love instead,

But I was not. Time and again

The mechanism of my brain

Seizes up with dancing numbers,

While the worn-out city slumbers.

The next day, through some early mist,

I hesitate, but don’t insist;

Convoys of data trundle by

And each one tries to catch my eye;

But, for the sake of you and I,

I steel myself and just resist.

Spurred on by my surprising choice,

I feel your presence and rejoice.

◄ The wisdom of age

Waste of Space ►


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Stephen Gospage

Fri 6th Aug 2021 16:23

Thanks for your like, John.

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Stephen Gospage

Tue 3rd Aug 2021 17:53

Many thanks to Nigel, KJ, Julie, Stephen, Holden and Pete for reading this poem and liking it.

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