Modern Slave
By Purposelessness
What if you and I
Are really the pets
And our phones are the ones
That decide what we get
When I turn around
And she is gone
I wonder if they've taken her
Their 'prodigal son'
Because she's always been
The one that they choose
To do their bidding
To walk in their shoes
Hours of searching
Fill me with woe
Sick with worry I
Just want to know
I find no trace but
I recall her face
And now it's my life
That's been a waste
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Copyright 2017 Purposelessness
Published on Monday, March 6, 2017.
Filed under: "Philosophical" and
"Poetry"