A Small Toy for Not Straying Too Far

The neck has a delicate feel,
And although boisterous,
Hides its face in the brain

Whenever it detects others
Looking on. These were the days
Of others, which made trouble

For necks, who were happier
Sticking out. One could
Hide in a stall for a moment

And catch a glimpse
Of an expression and perhaps
Stroke its nape, but never

Parade them around on the empty
Promenade like in the past.
What you got were a bunch

Of necks on the brain,
Just to be clear here.
It made navigation a snap

Although an entire body
Must move to assess exits,
And the highway was never

More forgotten then when
Never alone, the possessors,
Or guardians, if you will,

Would meet face-to-face
In a great explosion of
Glass thoughts and braced

Necks to try to force
Them out into the sunlight
To stretch their legs.