Poetry-Thing Thursday: For Me, For You

Nicotine stains my fingers,
while they beat a rhythm over keys.
Color flickers beneath them,
from multicolored LEDs.

What do I say?
To Whom do I say it?
Hope and love and peace,
things I used to preach.

But now things have changed.
My mind’s estranged–
not from reality,
but sheer morality;

the is and the was,
the what and the how,
even the where,
is not the now.

Slaving each day,
for no monetary pay.
I’m crazy some say–
or stupid, in a way.

But I do what I do,
for the hope of all,
to read and to listen,
let reason befall.

Whether for its own benefit,
or the mere fun of it.
I give you words.
Let them be heard,

and perhaps felt,
by one and by all,
whether big or small,
I give them to you,
so we might never fall.