On the Internet

I'm sitting alone in the jet black sorrow,
searching for what I did today and what I'll do tomorrow.
Looking through the pages for who I am,
knowing that the world is just more spam.
So many others out sitting like me,
but I can't feel them through the wires that "set me free,"
Oh so many others out there sit like me.

Fingers type for my material goods,
my mind flirts through reluctant moods
,and my little heart just beats and broods,
late into the darkness.

My self, my word, my beat inside,
it's chilled and left me with the tide,
my heart has gone on override.
I'm googling "heart stop button."

Why are we reduced to this:
giving in to ebay's kiss.
Why do we just sit and miss
ourselves and our analog love.


P.S. Rhyming schemes are kinda hard.
I know that I sound like a tard.