Internet

Your taking one letter words
and turning them into novels

I'm laughing out loud at
the way that she grovels

and you know it makes sense and
you know it takes time

let go of the hold
and keep your focus
in mind

The contour of your face
the bones of a man
they leave not a trace
not a bit of help or a hand

sleep down in the grass
where the willow trees grow
and feel not afraid of the all the somethings you know

close your eyes and breathe in all
the irony around
sink into the grass
tell your bad dreams to the ground

for your out there putting yourself
in the net who would of thought?
your mixed in with the mess