Falling Snow
It was raining through the paper trees digital withdrawalStacks of words in lines looking for something real to say
In the cold of the year millions were slowly falling in the snow
Coded messages scrawled across screens bizarre reality show
Machine villages grew from the smoke and graft
Crawling up from deeper circles of a place unnamed
Looks like nothing new just the old stagecraft
Falsely performing miracles in a prison framed
Stacks of words in lines looking for something real to say
It was raining through the paper trees digital withdrawal
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Written on 2025-11-20 at 01:42
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