Cordon yourself off behind that curtain,
That digital wall of your own making,
And one thing of which you can be certain
Is the grit and nuance you're forsaking.
With this sheer amount of texture and verve
One hundred forty characters won't do.
In the confines of the context they serve
I could never fully occur to you.
Low expectations caused you to settle
For so many byte-sized, fleeting and brief,
But breathe me in - you'll see I have mettle
Enough to provide long-lasting relief.
There's no translation for the web I weave.
To see it in the flesh is to believe.