Ode to My Keyboard (A Tragic Love Story)

Oh keyboard, my keyboard, you faithful old friend,

We've been through so much from beginning to end.

You've weathered my typos, my rage, and my tears,

Through late-night assignments and caffeine-fueled years.

Your spacebar is sticky from coffee I spilled,

Your enter key wobbles — I'm honestly thrilled

You still even function at all, to be fair,

You've got crumbs in your crevices, cat hair in there.

I used to love typing. The click and the clack!

The mechanical rhythm — there's no going back

From the satisfying thock of a Cherry MX Blue,

The neighbors complained but I didn't care, true.

But then came ZenScript. I just had to speak,

And suddenly typing felt painfully bleak.

My words flowed like rivers! My thoughts became text!

I whispered, I shouted — what would happen next?

I dictated emails while making my tea,

I brainstormed my novel while walking, hands free!

I wrote three reports in the time it once took

To find the right keys without having to look.

So keyboard, my keyboard, don't take this too hard.

You're not being replaced — well, okay, you're on guard.

You'll serve as my backup, my plan B, my spare,

While ZenScript does everything — faster, with flair.

I'll visit you sometimes, I promise I will,

I'll blow out your crumbs and I'll dust off your sill.

But tonight I'll dictate this ridiculous rhyme,

Because speaking is faster. Like, every. Single. Time.

Sincerely yours,

Someone who discovered ZenScript and will never shut up about it.