I am not ready
for anything to happen.
Uncertain times have robbed
us of routine; hours, days and weeks.
Merge like a child's paint pallette.
Muddled and muddied,
all definition is lost.
Technology tries
to connect, but we still we
hunger from touch starvation.
Today's prompt was to use a poetry bot to generate our first line. Of course I chose Sylvia Plath Bot.
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