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Andy Wang Poem
Those are my most painful days,
Living without Wi-Fi, at home.
Every single day,
for that terrifying week when we switched internet service,
I had to live the primitive life, with books.
A strange emptiness crept right in me, every time
The dreaded “No Connection” appeared.
Facebook. YouTube. Safari. Gone.
The blank screen of death was reminiscent
of the old days when I browsed with such freedom.
What is life, without those necessities?
Those days lingered, eating away at my patience,
like a skunk spray, that just won’t go away,
How could the companies let this happen?
The “smart” ones, the rich ones,
None could help this hellish experience.
Only one week’s worth of seconds
Healed this gaping wound,
And heard my pleas to restore the sacred connection.
Copyright © Andy Wang | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Andy Wang Poem
From a distance away,
I can spot a proud tail fin,
Standing upright among
A sea of dull metals.
As I approach, it’s evident that
Here rests the Queen.
The pinnacle of aviation.
The game-changer for aviation.
The tried-and-true Boeing 747.
You stand proud and tall,
Among other
Smaller,
Slower airliners.
Your presence silences the boneyard
Into deep awe.
The disdainful rust is only a reminder
Of your free years,
Taxiing graciously like a swam,
Blasting out of the airport
Like an unleashed missile.
You were unstoppable,
Your postures wowed the
Thousands of plane-spotters.
You are the beauty, the royalty 38000 feet up.
You are a safe fortress,
For however many passengers that you took in,
You let that many out.
Safe and sound.
You achieved something so amazing,
That aviation itself is changed:
With merely 4 engines,
And a pair of gracious angel-wings,
You connected the world.
You are the role-model for the future,
the true Queen of the Skies.
Yet, here you stay,
After decades of service,
wistfully among other aircrafts.
Airbus 300?
DC-8?
They aren’t even close to matching
Your legacy, your glamour.
Yet here you stay.
Gathering dust,
Being picked apart.
The airlines who claimed
to be proud to have you,
All forgotten about you.
But I haven’t.
And plane-spotters haven’t.
And pilots haven’t.
All those memories,
Pictures of the soaring heavy,
Fresh and vivid.
There, you will remain forever,
The way you were,
The Queen of the Skies.
Copyright © Andy Wang | Year Posted 2016
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