A Computer Poem for People Over 40
A computer was something on TV, From a science-fiction show of note, A window was something you hated to clean, And ram was the cousin of a goat.
Meg was the name of my girlfriend, And gig was a job for the nights, Now they all mean different things, And that really mega bytes.
An application was for employment, A program was a TV show, A cursor used profanity, A keyboard was a piano.
Log on was adding wood to the fire, Hard drive was a long trip on the road, A mouse pad was where a mouse lived, and backup happened to your commode.
Cut you did with a pocket knife, And paste you did with glue, A web was a spider’s home, And a virus was a flu.
I guess I’ll stick to my pad and paper, And the memory in my head, I hear nobody’s been killed in a computer crash, But when it happens they wish they were dead.
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