haujobb
platform
An entirely empty memory Displays nothing of value But you still hold on to your life Like it's your little beloved animal  The secondhand being that you call life Your face, familiar to millions Exist in the realm of the digital Is it possible for software to live?  You think you are free You are a platform A presence that could be  Something else is shifting Fields of information don't hind anymore Imaginary eyes begin to shape Your intelligence begins to flaw  You know you are free You're still a platform A presence of being crucially