Cube Dweller

Insulated and isolated

In rows and rows of cubes

With the blue screen for the sky

The key board strokes for the music

Farming with the servers

The phone for the neighbour

Lives our laptop farmer of today.

Indifferent to the rain and the sun

The freezing cold or the blistering heat

The only weather barometer we know

Is the thermostat knob.

Seven cubes away, seven seas away

Or seven planets away

We only ping to chat.

We talk to ourselves into the blue tooth

In the park, a party and everywhere.

Our days change, our friends change

With each and every client

We are cube dwellers of the information world.


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