Who are these disintegrating cells
Disowning their purpose
In vain belief that there is grass
On the other side
Of a once white picket fence,
Just beyond the amber rays
Of a monitor that knows no better
Than to speak only Hercules
Providing a baseline metrics
For Lotus - one - two - three
To excel in unquantifiable glory,
Who are these disintegrating cells
Carrying memories of only 640kB
Yet still maintaining a joy
Long since lost
In the world of gigabytes
And rendered other-lands
Conjured up by two-dimensional
Self-proclaimed gods.
