Traped In The Web Poem by saintman crosswire

These are the pictures, these are the feelings form the front line
Welcome to your future, welcome to your book of lies
Love in jail without space
Pushing buttons, screen feelings pretty grace
Making new friends, smiling with strangers
Speaking with them by moving your fingers
Pretty words without colour inside
Playing tricks from behind, trouble strangle your mind
You think everything is going nice
No matter if for you are cooking lies
This is what you choose
This is the future that you can not refuse