Ode to 🆄
Hark to me, people, and now hear me do,
I've lost a dear friend: the letter 🆄.
Yes indeed, yo🆄 listened me correct,
This is worst at best, and everything is wrecked.
For I awoke to-day to q🆄ite a big fright—
My tr🆄sty ol' typer-thing wasn't typing right!
All the pretty letters were working, save 🆄.
Down a whole vowel; my worst dreams were tr🆄e!
So "Blast!" I cried. "What crime be this?
If I'm witho🆄t 🆄, then I can't do j🆄stice
To my day job as a writer,
Or my night life as a fighter
Of everything online that's 🆄gly and sad.
I cannot tell a lie—this is really, really bad!"
So I laid myself down on the gro🆄nd for a while,
And I wept for 🆄 there in tra🆄matized style.
I h🆄rt for 🆄; yes, I missed 🆄 like a friend,
Tho🆄ght of all the things I'd never write again—
Things like f🆄nny, and y🆄mmy, and alphabet so🆄p;
H🆄mor, I. O. 🆄., and I love yo🆄.
I stayed there on the floor and time went by.
Presently eno🆄gh there was no more need to cry.
S🆄ddenly then I was str🆄ck by the tho🆄ght:
🆄 really did nothing to deserve what 🆄 got.
And j🆄st like that, my grief t🆄rned to rage
As I realized there was a war for me to wage!
🆄 did nothing wrong; 'twas the Apple God's sin!
The Apple God took 🆄—so let the battle begin!
A hex 🆄pon thee, Apple God! May all c🆄rses fall on thee!
May yo🆄 ever r🆄e the day that yo🆄 took 🆄 from me!
I will get my revenge, or I will die trying!
Either Apple God or I—one of 🆄s is dying!