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Silent Grace
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Night after night,
computers we grace,
endlessly typing, 
without ever seeing a face.

Loneliness finds us,
now and then.
Loneliness can tell us,
be we mice, or men?
What's does it all mean,
I ask myself.
Why do we sit here, lost in the void?

I'm not really sure,
but this poem draws to a close.
Why are we here?
Nobody knows.