I sit at my keyboard tapping, many formats o’er lapping, searching for a template for a letter to Lanore.
Lanore, my Facebook friend long-standing, but my distance she’s demanding, a restraining order landing, with the full force of the law.
So I’m at the keyboard thinking, with my broken heart a-sinking, trying to find the words to reconnect with lost Lenore.
“I see you’re trying to write a letter, can I help you make it better?”
Quoth the paperclip.
But I click him off dismissive and continue with my missive, giving him no more permissive, to disturb me evermore.
As I sit there thinking, my scotch quietly drinking, my hope it is a-shrinking, needing words to lead me back to lost Lenore.
My broken heart almost stopping, I try to stop the pop-up popping, but the paperclip comes back a-hopping, “Let me help you woo Lenore”.
Again I click him off dismissive and continue with my missive, giving him no more permissive, to disrupt me evermore.
And then the blue screen does appear, my heart is burning with the fear, that I’ve lost my missive dear, whose ending is as yet unclear, my missive to my love Lenore.
“Your letter is nevermore” quoth the paperclip.
My knowledge of computing, all evidence refuting, makes me try rebooting, restarting that single core, to reclaim my lost lettor, my final missive to Lenore.
But the letter has been deleted, replaced instead by one image repeated, a paperclip looking conceiting, completely filling my hard drive store.
And the paperclip whispers “Nevermore”.
by Helen and Brett