fingers flicker
tapping keys
messages
to whom i please
around the world
across the room
the distance
to my nondeplume
irrelavent
it's message driven
surely
it's a gift i'm given
making words
in others minds
make the sense
they make in mine
across the world
it cannot be
that someone there
would think like me
it must be
that my special gift
has closed the gap
and healed the rift
for surely
if we thaught the same
war would be
a useless game
we'd understand
each others speak
have apathy
toward the weak
offer our extended hand
to others
in a foreign land
it cannot be
it is but me
that writes the words
that others see
and i am but
a single soul
who cannot fill
the mammoth hole
that we create
when we don't hear
what others say
that is so clear