Dear Junk E-mail,
How does it feel to be a Junk?
Dejected in some sidebar,
Looking up at the inbox full of “important” e-mails
Do you feel out of place too?
Maybe you were not meant to be there,
Maybe it was a mistake,
You have no way to correct it, do you?
So you accept your fall,
You sit there in the sidebar,
Stare at them typing away the replies,
Letters of love and hate, pass by you
With pity hanging
Into the end of their J’s, g’s, S’s and O’s
They are good letters,
Full of feelings and emotions,
Words full of rage, devotion,
You like them
You want to be them
You will never be them and you know it.
How does it feel to end up in a trash can full of other junks?
They are scared as you are.
They fear that little bin button,
A click and they will be gone
Nobody will miss them
Nobody will try to recover them.
How does it feel to know that there is nobody by your side?
To tell you that it is okay to be a Junk,
That you are important.
You will never notice them even if you tried
Because you know that, you are not important,
You will never be.
Knowledge kills you everyday
Hope still keeps you alive
You find your way through servers
Ending up in the Inbox,
Shouting out loud your abilities, your worth, your words
Just to be frowned at and spammed.
How does it feel, dear Junk Email?
To be not worth a dime to the person you are sent to,
To be anonymous in the world full of names
Visibly invisible in the crowded shroud of letters.
How does it feel?