Each Fresh New Minute Like An Unfolding Rose Poem by Margaret Alice

I’ve forgotten about the other scourge waiting in the wings:
Office Scan Client, insisting on scanning my PC, with scary terms
like Trojan programs, malicious code – this whole scanning process
sounds fiendishly malicious to me, then the only thing that I like, nay adore:

Spyware – I so hope the enemy (whoever and wherever they may be)
will spy on me, it would add such excitement to my little life;
then spyware is followed by grayware…

That’s probably what’s wrong with Beyers from IT: The
Time-Thieves* have convinced him to save time to put in
the time-bank; there they dry his fresh, new time and roll
it into cigars and smoke up his life until only ashes is left

Beyers doesn’t know each fresh new minute is
like an unfolding rose, each successive
minute more beautiful than the
previous one…

*From “Momo” by Michael Ende