The Dangers of Mediated Communication

My hands are cold,

You’re no longer here and I thought, yeah

Hope is where I should invest

All these things, a past you never knew,

The present you saw,

A future I’d like to make

Not alone in my triumph

And I had hoped, yes, I was allowed to

A permission rarely given

A permission never asked for and yet

For a while I thought, yeah

This feels right

This feels grand

And I was young and I thought

I could do no wrong

‘Cause you’re no longer here and I thought, yeah

There will be summers again

They will come like they always did

And you’d be there ‘cause you always were

But summer came, darling, summer went

Along with the tinsel-winged wonder

Everyone calls hope

She who has now become dead to me and still

You’re not here and I thought, yeah

This blade has my name,

And this red-stained world can make

My cold hands warm again.

Emo, I know. But things like this do happen. Actually, in my head, it’s happening. I’m sorry. Small things like technology can isolate somebody pretty darn well. I guess that’s what I hate about this age; it’s the way it makes personal stuff seem so near but when you think about it, without Facebook, YM, AOL, GMAIL or whatever mode of communication we use, we’re just as cut off from the world as that proverbial guy stuck on island.

Which kinda happened to me today.

I’m not OK right now. Let me know if the world’s right again.


About kyogakura
Bored 95% of the time.

8 Responses to The Dangers of Mediated Communication

  1. Pingback: Thursday Poets Rally Week 39 (March 3-9, 2011) | Promising Poets' Parking Lot

  2. Ashley says:

    A very compelling piece I must say. It reflected so well on the emotion and I could literally feel it.

    All the best!

    • kyogakura says:

      this was done out of depression. dunno..things sound better under emotional stress =]

  3. glad to see you get warm in the end…
    heartfelt words..
    come join us..

  4. Sam373 says:

    U R the world. It is as right as U R!
    Make no excuse KINDRED! Write what you feel and R.
    Every experience, pain or pleasure is designed to shape, chisel or prune U into someone special, unique,real. Guide us through the maelstrom of Life. Prove to us that there is a path that lead to a purpose. Write on Kindred Spirit Write ON and I will read you like a book!

  5. Jingle says:


    join us if you wish…
    Happy Weekend.

  6. Please feel free to share 1 to 3 poems with our potluck poetry today, participants could use old poems or poems unrelated to our theme, Thanks..
    Happy Monday!

    Love your blog, your poetry is impressive!

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