backup now, the blue screen of death

eyes clad with kohl, a kid
walks, every step downloaded
with a faint trace of innocence,
a cache of life, wonder and
bright colors.

/a stack of thoughts, a queue of memories
looping in an array of careless composure/

I read about the hacking away of life
of a kid, of the school where I spent
almost years of five, in an emulation
of deeds, as the school bus met with
an accident, tender hands clutching
wane seats, as we did back in the day,
when the driver took a reckless turn,
as if communicating in bauds: a wish
or an anguish, a sign but of a nybble.

/clusters on a disk are we, bugs winding down,
a chip of a life booting characters, low bandwidth/

.

*Using a bit of computer jargon…