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It seems
that my computer
Is becoming my best friend,
We talk from early morn' and through the day,
I tell her my ambitions
And my many thoughts and dreams,
She listens to the things I have to say.
I'd been
to visit once before,
She lives at 9 'Hard Drive',
I knew by 'Memory" I could find her house,
I came upon her residence
And looked in at the 'Windows',
And there she sat as quiet as a 'Mouse'.
We hadn't
much to say that time,
For we were very shy,
We watched a 'Program', sitting on her couch,
It wasn't ergonomic,
It was really kind of 'Floppy',
I tried to sit up straight and not to
slouch.
The next
time that I visited,
She seemed to have a 'Virus',
And so I thought I wouldn't stay too long,
But then she offered me some 'Port'
And Lay's potato 'Chips',
And then we played a simple game of Pong.
So now we
are like lovers,
And we hate to be apart,
My love for her I'll never put at risk,
She is my inspiration,
And she gives me all my 'Drive',
I'll write my hopes and dreams upon her
'Disk'.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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