Hello everyone, I was reading in the LXF magazine and stumbled upon a nice poem written by Dr. Chris Brown who writes articles and tuts in the LXF magazine under the Dr. Brown's Administeria section. He wrote this nice poem about a dead laptop and it is derived from the original well known poem called
stop all the clocks
So I thought I'd share it with you, her it is, enjoy.
Going from the sublime to the redicoulous(or perhaps the other way around) I offer a small poetic work with sincere
apologies to WH Auden.
Stop all the clocks power down the core
My faithful, ancient laptop is no more.
Unplug the network cable and the mouse.
Play the funeral march, turn off the Strauss.
Attempt not to console me with well-meant
platitude
Nor tempt me with a netbook, nor Inspiron,
no Latitude.
I'm well aware technology has recently
moved on,
But me and my laptop - we were one.
It was my North, my South, my West
and East
I thought it good for five more years at least.
I thought "I haven't had it very long."
I thought that disk would last for ever:
I was wrong.
It's time to send out emails, proclaiming it
Is Dead.
It's time to find the backup tapes, and hope
they can be read.
It's time to close the final lid, and with muffled drum
Consign it to dustbin, and let Veolia
come.
