Time Passing -- A Miscellany of Poems; ©Thor May 2008 index
The 541st Facebook Friend
Ambushed again, faked, photoshopped
False friend or true? We met once
Surfing past, a finger click away
Or so you say, and poised now
For assassination, a cold delete?
To be or not to be, the moving cursor asks;
Am I to let your promiscuous affection
Claim my avatar, encode a ghost
A faithless mist of electrons, my pixelated ID,
Dangle in the dragnet of your 541st delusion?
So, Master of the 541st, did you fear our journey
Across the misty mountains of old times?
How is the dust on your feet? Remember
The salty sweat in our eyes, and the song our lips
When the world was made of earth and sky?