Friends With/Without Faces
and odd little names.
We sit and we type,
And we stare at our screens,
We all have to wonder,
What this possibly means.
With our mouse's we roam,
Through the rooms in a maze,
Looking for something or someone,
As we sit in a daze.
We chat with each other,
We type all our woes,
Small groups we do form,
And gang up on our foes.
We wait for somebody,
To type out our name,
We want recognition,
But it's always the same.
We give kisses and hugs,
And sometimes we flirt,
In MIRC we chat deeply,
And reveal why we hurt.
We do form friendships
But why we don't know,
But some of these friendships,
Will flourish and grow.
Why it is on the screen,
We can be so bold,
Telling our secrets,
That have never been told.
Why is it we share,
The thoughts in our mind,
With those we can't see,
As though we were blind.
The answer is simple,
It's as clear as a bell.
We all have our problems,
And need someone to tell.
We can't tell "real" people,
But tell someone we must,
So we turn on the computer,
And to those we can trust.
Even though it is crazy,
The truth still remains,
They are Friends Without Faces,
and odd little names.
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