My Second Best Friend

I loved you so
my dear dead plastic friend;
always there to greet my greasy fingers with the incomplainant cubes of yer keys
eating breadcrumbs secondhand from my mouth
sharing tea, coffee, milk and other such liquids.
Boy we sure gossiped a lot!
now fatally unpluged,
ergonomic won,
ou cursed fortune, why did the F8 die?!

I shall bury you in the yard next to the rodents. No recycling machine for you.