The cursor is many things:
a megaphone,
a friend who listens,
that space deep inside you.
It meets the blank page:
where you ignite,
and change,
and feel your power.
A tool to share your joy:
your highs displayed for all to see,
your lows swept off the screen.
Through it your selves appear:
the enlightened,
the wistful,
the proud,
the vain.
Such a slender thing
through which we are born
over and over again.
I like the “selves” section. It’s always interesting to see the words people choose for themselves. I think my cursor deals with the enlightened the delusional, the hermit and the one in want of a name. Cool to see poetry from you.
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