Where the sunrise is digital,
and emotion a check-box option.
They hide behind an IP address,
disguised in forums, and chatrooms.
The air they breathe,
toxic with HTML.
Their ultimate end,
is they're false beginning.
The birds will chirp for them,
on their fatal deletion day.
With eyes full of numbers,
and a heart full of letters,
you'll find a lonely being,
find them caressing their keyboard,
kissing their monitors.
As everyone whispers sweet remorse,
through their computer speakers,
as they bury them beneath heartbroke hardware.
False mourning, fake love V2.1,
as your friends log in life,
and remove you from the friends list.
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