Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

These fingers were as restless
as a virile runner doing miles
around the fileld, never getting tired;
that young atlete must have been me...
pounding the keybord's keys
and writing another night away!
How can I get my lost frenzy back?
I get home at a quarter to one,
fix myself a cup of sweet tea,
hoping to fall asleep in an hour,
then glued to the computer screen,
I write another poem and enter a new contest;
and before I glance back at the clock,
it's already five o' clock a. m. and constantly
yawning, I moan with malcontent!
Only once, I promised myself
to take a break and let my fingers rest;
and that promise I broke with an incredible urge:
the very next day, I went back...
with the slowness of a hunch-back,
knowing that I had lied to myself...
I didn't regret my cheating on my weary fingers! 
How could I have done such a naughty thing to them?
And now, I am typing very slowly
as if I am having a writer's block,
they are punishing me for being too unfair!
Oh, I should have shown a little pity for them,
let them relax an entire week...forgetting they existed;
and they would have appreciated my concern and kindness!

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