It's
not quite
drinking a cup
of
sulphuric acid.
Not working twenty-nine
hours
a day
down mine, paying
mill
owner for
permission to come
to
work. BUT,
trying to explain
the
bloody agony
of waiting for
t'internet
to connect.
The taunting little
tune
it trilled.
Being booted off
because
mam wanted
to phone Aunt
Jeanie.
Torture sheer
torture. But you
try
and tell
the young people
today
that...they
won't believe ya.
Today's prompt was to write a poem about obsolete technology. Obviously paying homage to
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