So many bits
A byte really
Can it all fit
In a tear drop
Fall in a cup
A drink made
For the lost
Are we not so
A memory
But for that
We need a bit
More - eight
I am told - is the de facto standard
And boy we had a few: each makes
Me laugh when I think - I try not to
Cuz after the laugh it makes me sad
How did we go so wrong - how is the feeling
So strong - in one dream I met you
In a library so large it wasn’t chance
In another dream - it was a canyon
So vast - not another soul ever existed
I am told to let go with grace - I’ll try again
Tomorrow then each tomorrow after - till then
I’ll laugh and be sad - narrow down the time
So it fits into - the de facto