Lost in a maze of a hundred-fold,
Too soon to depart, before they get old
O'ertaken swiftly by some newcommer's words,
Before one echo, before they were heard!
Here in this e'er changing maze of lines,
How many are lost before their time?
How many triumph their mark to make,
Before to oblivion their journey they take?
Premature "Time-Outs" are killing me,
I finishing my typing, but a Time-Out I see.
What is the deal, this just makes no sense,
Is that reason'ble, or am I just dense?
I'm glad they've seen fit to give us some space,
For our own words, thus to showcase,
Somewhere our words live in Cyberspace,
"E.T. call home!" before they're erased!