Why the Tape

Why The Tape? Had a BBC with a tape recorder, Not a disk drive to speed loading, Not for a predictions program, Not for saving my long documents. Why this lack of approval, love? A wet cloth on my nightly activity, A dampness in the metal mansion, A call on Usain Bolt at his run. There was no assistive software, On tape for the BBC computer, No special quiet communication, For this lonely trier knightly. I complained to my school doctor, That dignity had been abducted, By my parents from my usage, Of my home computer majestic. The school offered me a drive, So I took it, but my evil parents, Objected to the kindness given, By rejecting the treasured mace. Nothing really came of that,  But the doctor promised to, Remember their uncaring spirit, Their sad and bad reaction. But I was just so frustrated, I couldn’t save my programs, So felt defeated every time, I switched off the computer. I mean, I did buy blank tapes, But they put them in the bin, Reprimanded shop assistants, For helping me buy each tape. So I felt so small and worn, When I should’ve felt grand, Big for the added functionality, Big for the hard challenge. Life’s like that sometimes, It just does not help you out, It doesn’t glance, give a chance, When you just need enabled.