There was once a time of splendid, but silent thoughts,
Written down in speechless curves, dashes and dots.
A time when in the wordy gymnastics with a paper and pen,
Only a special few could get themselves a perfect ten!
And today, writing is but just a commoner's hobby..
With growing opinions in every new writer's lobby.
Look around you and you'll see someone tearing down the Internet,
And vehemently, with a sharp toothed mouse and a boisterous key set.
Tip, Tap, Clack, Click, Tip, Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap, Clack, Click
On goes the constant chattering with words, that we carelessly pick.
In this way of today, where few can distinguish their words as good,
Grab a chance, claim my fame, publish this poem, I should!
Before this paper fades, and my writing - no one can really read...
I must walk into the isles of my blog and sow this tiny seed
For in a crowded garden of countless flowers, who'd notice but a weed?
