And we type.
Why is it that you tell a keyboard more than your inquirers.
Do we not inquire enough?
When you read this do you think I'm talking to you?
No, this must certainly be for someone else.
Is it?
I'm here, I'm waiting.
You hide it not inside your heart but on the keys of a board that reads
"Qwerty."
Tell me. What is it I can't do?
Because a keyboard doesn't listen,
It doesn't sympathize
Or empathize.
I do. And you trust Qwerty more than I.
YOU ARE READING
Poems, Stories, And Unorganized Messes
Short StoryShort stories, poems, snippets, scraps, scripts, and more...whatever I feel like writing. Kind of a dumpster where I just dump what I'm thinking, but it doesn't smell as bad. I hope. Copyright 2014 (c) by DiscardedOpus13 All rights reserved. No part...
