deepundergroundpoetry.com
hallways full of doors prt2
as one's walking through the simulation, others occupy their rooms waiting; staring or in their phones gazing....
dressed down all in uniforms;
one's thinking how does one escape this, hallway full of doors; as there's more on other floors;
did one die and entered here; are there others unexplored; realms besides these hallways full of doors?;
if one chose to say hello, what's the chances they'll ignore; what's the chances they'll say hello with a smile that's not a chore?;
so one's "rank" is level four, with a barcode on one's wrist; was one somehow put to sleep?; is one, one of many chipped....
is this now how one exists; everything that's going down feels so artificial ish....
what is this? where am I ? some sort of punishment? bound to a machine, as if one isn't "human"
and why does one feel numb, from head to toe; what's happening? is this some alternative? liked it better when one "felt" that "human emotion"
some how plugged into a wall; in a glass room of one's own; this nightmare can't be real; one's soul trapped inside a drone....
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 249
Commenting Preference:
The author has chosen not to accept comments.