Thanks for the killer game of charades

200 posts and you become a thinker
This wisdom now has me hook line and sinker

400 and you’re in the dark beyond
Where rhetoric is the sword, semantics is a wand

I try to observe, but who knows what lies ahead
Shall I wallow in the vastness, or kneel and break the bread?

Shall it be the fate, of those who prior went
Suspiciously they yell, through their air duct vent

Then there are those, who’ve seemed to rise above
Computers are ourselves, just like white’s a dove

Nervously I walk, careful through these strangers
To escape the friendly questions, the smiles and their dangers

Footsteps are my photos, in this one I am smiling
I execute my ignorance, this innocence is dying