Is there a Cyber waste dump?
Are there scavengers?
Electronic rats?
Virtual flies,
In invisible skies?
All the lovey-dovey emails,
Chain letters that if you don't pass on you get bad luck,
Where do they go?
I really don't know.
I lose stuff into this vortex all the time.
Many, many words, with apart of my mind.
Are there little dozers pushing up the trash?
Is there a rip in a dimension and it's pulled in the slash?
All those lost files,
Meant to beguile.
You can't hit "Back" enough times to get it all.
The storm can make it so you can't even call.
Unsaved documents that are no longer in sight.
Funny how it's all just black and white.
I like to think the stories I lost are now in outer space.
It's too bad some don't flutter back like a feather or a leaf,
Some had caused me such grief.
I sometimes think about the "hackers".
Like they are in a smash up derby using a tank.
Sending viruses like mad scientists.
Maybe karma will come back when they're sitting at the dentist.
I wonder about the new breed of nerds.
I'm fine with being un-cool.
But worry of the synthetic images that they let abound.
Sitting in a chair all day,
Your soul never leaves the ground.
On the sea you can see for twenty odd miles, then the curve.
Yet on this you can chat so much further.
Right now a little Arabic girl is playing a game with a Michigan boy.
I have to believe this with turn out better than any diplomatic ploy.
There is so much to learn.
And I still don't even know how to make my own electricity.
It's been around for a hundred years.
I guess that show a weakness and situational fear.
I saw a program for robots with souls.
Could "they" give me more,
Would it change my skin and my tone.
To get to the marrow,
You have to get through the bone.
I'm confused by some logic.
Is to help or be tragic.
There is so much out there,
I won't see it all before you are old.
Still my question is unanswered.
I see almost new computers set out to pasture.
Deleted, and it goes.
And yet I don't know.
�2003 Daniel J Harris