VIRTUALS The Cosmic … This Internet … this magic instrument That shares its megaphones with silence so We voiceless can insist: “I AM HERE!” The “I” … Creating art because that’s who we are … Small soloists beseeching online sites To let us chorus with our kindred kind: The lost alone on quests for echoes who Share hungers for acceptance; sick sweet souls Who master pain by giving of themselves, Insomniacs defying sleep until They’ve posted one more image … one more “LOOK AT ME” to change indifferent minds; those stiff Competitors whose self-worth rests on stars And kudos to allay an ego’s dread Of being mediocre … flatterers Who fawn for gentle praises; midgets masked By anonymity degrading those With talents bigger than they own. And yet, It’s good to flee the sanctuaries of Ourselves. We reach with poet’s struggling with Their craft. We grow with others who express Their views of beauty, people daring dreams Of thoughts and vistas we have yet to search … Those strangers sometimes counted as a friend.