Legions of tight smiled professionals needed me.
I used to be stored and loved like a comforter.
My friend’s fresh navy complexion pressed
And was made a part of me.
Sometimes my information was faint;
Sometimes a special pressure so true.
I felt important.
I was important.
Scores upon scored of records…
Dear, what’s left of us?
Still official, yes;
We’re still the security, still sensible.
But, we’re not actually there, are we?
Long gone are the months of slow sleep until
Nimble deftness chose and smoothed.
We’re a series of 001010 now.
I’m sure we were better in blue before, dear. Binary doesn’t suit.
