Board Of Keys
Three rows of letters,
by Sandra Osborne
In white little squares
As you silently stare.
Composing, pecking or slamming out,
Fast or creeping they come together,
Hateful words and love ones too,
Ringing out forever.
Tis a strange little weapon
This board of keys, mocking at its maker,
It’s makes our words so lightning fast
But it doesn’t make them safer.
So think it through, when you fling them out
Because you know it’s never easy,
To write grand words all full of hope,
But it's easy to be sleazy.