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Ghosts, spirits, and souls are online  Do we all have limbs to make the net happen?  Heaven and hell, at their heels and flight, saving the line 
We want love but shy away from hurt The best we can do these days is flirt We send nudes and post selfies Send confessions that cry “help me” For we all just want to be loved  
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You know, it's very sad to see so many people trying to be perfect on the Internet. It is very sad to see that people are two-sided. The Internet makes us all worse. Let's be honest together, we are all tired of this.
It just took seventy daysto say HelloSeventy days to make a phone call,Days turned into weeks and monthsLost the count after all.
In Ancient Greece long ago, Hermes was the god of communication, Travelers, and tricksters, you know In the 21st century, he has a new station.  
Concepts spurred within the birthing grounds Many withered before they had a chance to spark But one stood out amongst them Due to the speed of her growth The ancient gods quickly took notice
Coded Numbers, flashing light, Keep me up all through the night. My eyes grow tired, and same for my brain. Is a.i. helpful or am I insane? They say it's a breakthrough. There's no need to fuss.
with the intelligence of a god, for whom intelligence is the base, it would hardly seem odd, if she got red in the face, when with the click of some keys, at a relatively quick pace,
In some place where the day grows with rage, The sky grows dark,  They are ready to leave their mark. Their target is a god up in the sky, Who never leaves a reply, The silence has gone too far!
There he sits upon his throne In the web, his chaos sown. Drunken though his thoughts may be Others read it readily, While drinking in the words so fair, They drink it all without much care.
no you can’t see my shackles, no ball, no chain. that doesn’t mean I am free, for you I’m a slave.   addicted to your touch, you light up my nights. give me company when im alone,
The Internet is Making Us Crazy We can still be friends, even if we disagree,
  My quality time.
With the internet at our fingertips (at our disposal never leting us breathebreathebreathe) it is easy to see everything (wrong with the world) like
Consider me someone of barter, You exchange with me.   I carry alot in my bag: Education. Backlash. Dedications. Some say trash. Racy pics and texts, Oh no doubt.
To people who deny the correlation between the Internet and teen suicide,   You walk into your room. On a beaten wooden table sits your phone, cool and motionless. It is off.
Awkward man, awkward manners. Awkward man gets on the Internet. Awkward man conversates with fans of a show. Awkward man is a fan of a show, A show involving animated and colorful ponies.
A child of ten years, And a invisible puppeteer, Stumbled upon each other in a forum.   They grew closer and closer, But little did the child know, They would break their heart.  
Is it because my skin is not the color of milk or the lightest of creme that my world I was born in since birth is stilted. It's tilted.   
Scared of the “outside” So we stay in and hide We hide behind a screen That will sooner destroy us then try and reconnect us.  
Often, I find myself beset by blues, Often, I see such lunacy. Often, I find myself seeing interviews, Often, I see people as crazy. Often, I find myself depressed by the news, Often, I see insanity.  
Instagram,Twitter,Facedbook.. Snapchat,Ifunny,Youtube.. Always working smiles on my face, Like bees working toghether to make sweet honey. Oh!.. the giggles and smiles they create,sweet ole temporary happiness.
Profile: Hello! I enjoy literature, comic books, And nerdy T.V. shows. I like to swim, dance, hike, and draw. My name is Ariel.  
She took it away Stole my life source Confiscated my heart And all that connects me inside The wires and the lines That helped me reach a place A place where I could be happy
Lonley Why do you not look at me? I am here. I am real. The possibility of friendship is right in front of you, but I'm the only one putting in effort. All the friends you claim to have do not truly care.
I used to think it was normal To cry for three hours about nothing. That it was normal To think about dying at least once a day.
If an island ever daredTo be stranded with meI'd take my laptopAnd a coffee shopWith the wi-fi free  
  No Wi-Fi Signal :( Originally called the World Wide Web Has now become something we can't bear to live without The Internet, something almost everyone has used before
An Illusion is defined by something that is or is likely to be wrongly perceived  Or interpreted by the senses I was once like that, dillusioned and deceived Thanks to my naivity, I had faced dired consequences  
Drawing in the minds of the youth, you're like a fishing line. Your walls do more than stop a virus. You provide a barrier of emotions, where one can deceive and cheat and lie,
 It takes time to understand what's important The needs are from what takes us apart. A thought not provoked alone but together A collective of sorts.  
A million swarming voices,A thundering, roaring crowd,The silent scream of reason,Deafened in the noise.  
Written by me, but from my mother's perspective, before she passed away.   Today you start school. All caught up, Green checks on every lesson. You don’t even have to set
Technology gave me security; The internet made me feel
I know people wont read this ,
"Be honest," they said, so honest I was. Honest as nobody ever was. Blunt as the barrier between water and oil, I told them the truth without recoil.   The truth of our cohorts, sad but true
Who am I? I am not my facebook page I am not the number of likes on my Instagram post I am no the numbe of retweets on Twitter I am me. I am loving, caring, and kind I am friendly, funny, and quiet
Social media is a soul-sucking succubus. How is that for consonance? We are all just internet personalities. THe generation could use some resistence.     Profile pictures are petty portrayals. 
iPhone 5s and the conformity has started Promised not to follow the pack yet I got the Xbox one regardless. I'm charged to the outlet, with my device in hand
F or those who lose sleep over the opinion of sheep, L ose a sene of self-respect. A dmiration for the things I have done W ill never define who I truly am. L eadership fuels my body on a daily basis, however
A freedom without freedom, a choice of abuse We give away our lives with every password put to use Theres little gain but everything to lose We give up being anonymous And hope we're not jused used
I notice you like my things And it's nice....but it's also frustrating You seem to just like things that relate to me Dude, do you even read my shit? I put a lot of thought into everything I share
It's not that hard to stand and fight when the war isn't a physical danger. What we're fighting against aren't armies and guns and soldiers. Though we fight with just as much might and anger.
A mask Through which our silent judging eyes Peer though the haze and hatred all the time On blank screens. Reflect the beast inside He's huffin' and puffin' his musky breath
This generation-we're underestimated. We sit, watch, take in, tweet, gram, filter, like, endlessly, uselessly! Endlessly the underestimate us, call us useless. But are they right? Should we be underestimated?  
Say, When did we begin to ignore others, As if they don't exist in our parameter?
A blossoming network, Parts new and old, Compositions of data, To you, it's sold.   QWERTYUIOP ASDFGHJKL; ZXCVBNM The keyboard, the tool.   Sites to surf,
When you see my half smile and bright eyes from a flattering upward , slightly to the left, angle...what you cannot see is more important. The pain my heart and hurt in my veins do not flush to my cheeks or surface on my skin.
All of a sudden you’re hit You think of an idea with wit Stare at the screen Don’t make a scene But silently say “Yes, that’s it!”   You write and act and edit You upload and then wait a bit
With that sickening, gloomy grey that glides across my yellowing eye, That redness that intoxicates my vision, Burning everything upon its lonesome path. Lost forever to the cinders of eternal sleep,
The screen in front of me Makes my eyes hurt.
Her self-confidence is built on the foundations of Facebook and Twitter
The words light up, emblazoned on her face. As she walks a lonely path, the only one she's ever known. She wonders if she will ever see the light, ever get the chance to stand.
It brings knowledge to my fingertips It provides a way to spend time It unites the world Internet  
If everyone is an actor, to each his own, why do some leae the performance in the first act? One may think a greater one- a Higher Being, if you will, holds the strings. But Look at your hands.  
My computer is evil watch and see.
  “They r just (w)ordz.” Tell that to the suicidal kids Taking it everyday, silent Letters (o)n a screen, never quite heard Yet stings of fag and slut ringing in the head
The Internet is a place Vast and infinite much like space Full of information that could blind you…Mace   It is a great place to loose your self Although it gives you a voice you will still be deaf
Innocent people being hooked on the blue book, becoming dull robots that speak in code; it comes in your sleep taking your intellect like a crook, by bribing you with a new mode.
Sometimes I wonder if my stuttering heartCan be felt, by you, through the thin words.Ff a small screen can relay the racing mindAnd the longing (I feel) for a new start.
Our lasting words written in code The internet becomes our new home Interconecceted for better and for worst The hateful words we type and curse We succumb to a wealth of knowledge 
 Hashtag YOLO hashtag swagLiving real life is such a drag.Facebook, Tumblr, Vine, TwitterWhen I’m in public, I’m really bitter.My tweets are funny and often wittyI even run a blog about my kitty.
Expanding, Deleting, Saving, Repeating.   Try as I might, And try with my might, I fail to kill the world’s play, Across my monitor’s width.   Expanding, Deleting,
One click, two, a pause and a smile I can only imagine the dream like state of your eyes on the screen And as you proceeded on, you knew all the while What would come of a simple message, a day to convene.
This world at my fingertips that spins and twirls takes it’s time with flips that makes me want to hurl   Keys to the very end
Alive as much as I could be.  Enchanted by the world, so it seemed. Click Click Click Heinous words being typed by  insecure people who think what they say is right. Click Click 
I don't like to be ignored. Actually I HATE to be ignored. And fuck those of you who immediately think that I am an attention whore. I'm not, I just don't like to be ignored.
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } Oh, Internet! How I love thee - Your world wide web And plethora of information Constantly distracts me. I can talk to many friends, I can read about the news,
Go ahead, I know I'm mean I'm bearly turning seventeen Say what you want, it can't bother me I'm too grown up, to read what you put type about me   School is important, I'm keeping my eye on that
what happened to our worldwhat happened to ours boys and ours girlswhat made them look down at the people in their phonesinstead of the ones the ones in their homes
I listen to them, I listen well They tell me to listen with my eyes What I see through the screen is perpetual hell.
This is a narrative. It begins and it doesn't exactly end yet - there's no end of an era here yet. The Nineties Kids are growing up, coming into our own
It is the sound of rain and thunder and the ever present fire that swirls into the sky Siren wails and the rumble of horses galloping across the never ending ocean.
The morning comes and you're already on my mind. From the moment I wake up, 'til i got o sleep at night. You're so far, yet so close. I want to meet you, but im tremulous. At the thought of you near me...
(slow): bee boo bee bop bee bee boop.. *internet connecting noises* connecting.. dialing... connecting.. (fast): CLICK CLICK facebook! ITunes! google! twitter! (slow): connected...
I am the quad core intel i7 chip in the beautiful aluminum unibody MacBook Pro. I am the retina display in the iPhone 5. I am the 4g LTE in the all new iPad. I am the 32 gb of storage in an iPod touch.
(A poem based on telling my past self four years ago)-Does contain suggestive language Dear freshman me: Hey!- you yes you there blond- hair tip moron -sighs-
So many days in that black swivel chair Clicking on clues, who needs fresh air? Staring at the screen with its curve like the earth You’d think I’d been doing this from at least birth
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