Got to the end… well done 😀
The prompt for this poem is deceptively simple. Why do you write?
It is a compulsion.
It is repetition and deviation.
It is many states and never the same thing twice.
It is the blood in my veins and the food on my plate.
There are so many other reasons but, deep down, it’s a constant, unignorable beat of fingers on keys. I have a mechanical keyboard attached to my computer, and that means when I type, it takes me back to the old days of doing this on a machine that was only as smart as I was.
A lot has changed in half a century.
Not all of it has been that bad, either.
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