I am itchy with conspiracies
bristling with theories
restless with hypotheses
mind filled with so many half truths
Tired of this age of Social networking self importance
No one cares what you ate for lunch
or how far you ran today
no matter how much you tweet it
Facebook it
Scream it into the machine
Fictions
Turning pages
looking for clues inside text
Do you know the way to bring back
A dying art form
It lays in my hands
Breathing its last breathe
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