• You write a draft,
    check it well,
    finish the work,
    your feelings you tell.

    You type a draft,
    you hit spellcheck,
    save it to disk,
    your emotions a wreck.

    You get a stamp
    and envelope,
    address the work,
    and send it with your hope.

    You open a site
    and find "Submissions,"
    you enter your info,
    and post it for millions.

    A year goes by,
    and you come to find,
    a letter for you,
    it's far too kind.

    A year goes by,
    and you come to find,
    that what you made,
    is gone, from paper, heart and mind.

    We fly forward,
    we don't look back,
    our world dies and gives birth,
    so much we can't track.

    Should we truly invest our hearts,
    in something so fragile, so complex?
    Should we keep our hearts, our minds,
    closer to us, instead of on internet wrecks?