Blasted Computer Poem by Royston Allen

That blasted computer, I hates it so
What he's doing with it I'll never know
Surfing in Cyberspace, he works alone
Leaving me back on earth all on my own

It does our finances with accuracy
But it cannot do them as good as me
And each month we both stare at that bright screen
Why can't things just return to how they'd been

I tried hard to use it, but I forget
Which keys that I should press and get upset
I concentrate hard when Internet shopping
Then it looses it all. — I HATE THE THING!