flat effect
reality whisks by from where i sit
only data holds any significance
mathematical mysteries
they unfold before me on my screen
running within the confinement
inside those lines of code
contains my ticket to freedom
keeping me whole for the next nine hours
little else matters much
everyday is but a fleeting moment
so many and all the same
they say that work may dull a man
or fill his heart with stone
find a muse to play his tune
let warmth seep to the bone
one came hither and strummed her harp
one passed humming her song
destiny shall have that the harpist be paid but
stead the latter shalt belong