By
A.P.
SCIEY.
For decades I have shared your home,
with a sort of mouse that cannot roam,
and a keyboard linked into my brain.
It’s messages can cause me pain.
My silence, I’ve tried hard to keep,
no sound, save for a plaintive bleep.
As from today, my life has changed,
the power of speech has been arranged.
All my life I’ve borne the blame.
I am thick skinned, but all the same.
It gives my ego a nasty jolt,
knowing that it’s not my fault.
It’s plain to see, it’s total fiction,
that I’m to blame, for faulty diction.
Now at long last, I’ll have my say.
when folk get bills, they should not pay,
The blame lies squarely, don’t you agree,
on those who’s fingers strike the key ?
I simply do what I am taught.
My skill is speed, theirs should be thought.
RAY BAKER.