I ran out of data on the nine o’clock train
10 gigs in three weeks to me seems strange
Must’ve been the streaming, the hotspots and games
Nine days to go without air.

But data has been getting in the way of my creative process
Represses the sparks to make my thoughts undress
A restless mind can more easily rest in a form that requires less stress
I’m a busy busy man nine to five kids and wife
And writing is my way to deconstruct my life in my mind
But I find it hard to reignite the spark when my writing tool doubles up as a block
As my ipod, cinema, office and magazine
Procrastination is the jewel of my routine
But now the juice has gone and here remains a void
Not sure to act liberated or simply annoyed
What if the cold war steps up a notch?
And we’re given three minutes until we drop
And in this time frame it’s all we’ve got
To tell our loved ones they’re loved ones
Everyone is privy to this warning and I’m not?
Mysteries of this world for me I’m unknowing
At least it encouraged me to write this poem

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