The world at finger tips,
hurled past the eclipse,
faster than you can move your lips,
life is a trip,
and try helping someone else lift up the odds.
To the present gift,
to fight against oppressors unseen,
in the midst of agonizing defeat,
Skip to when we meet,
from the head
down to the feet,
We read sounds as a greet,
In the garage or on the street.
The factory operators found this piece,
under a heap of old files,
that was noted “DO NOT READ”
while also being alphabetized, properly.