- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Missing Words
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I put pen to paper, often at night.
Writing my thoughts till dawns breaking light.
Into the trash heap they go with a click
That's the magic of 'puters, they're really quite slick.
How many words have I typed in my life?
Only to be targets of my internal strife?
From my fingers they flow in the pixels soft glow,
Words aplenty and so few apropos.
I churn them right out, typing madly it seems.
If I really used paper, I'd be using up reams!
How many words have I lost in my time?
Only to be victims of the delete button's chime?
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