A poem for computer users over 30

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By Anonymous

By Anonymous

A computer was something on TV, From a science fiction show of note.

A window was something you hated to clean, And ram was the cousin of a goat.

Meg was the name of my girlfriend, And gig was a job for the nights.

Now they all mean different things, And that really mega bytes.

An application was for employment. A program was a TV show.

A cursor used profanity. A keyboard was a piano.

Memory was something that you lost with age. A CD was a bank account;

And if you had a 3-inch floppy, You hoped nobody found out.

Compress was something you did to the garbage, Not something you did to a file;

And if you unzipped anything in public, You’d be in jail for a while.

Log on was adding wood to the fire. Hard drive was a long trip on the road.

A mouse pad was where a mouse lived, And a backup happened to your commode.

Cut you did with a pocket knife. Paste you did with glue.

A web was a spider’s home, And a virus was the flu.

I guess I’ll stick to my pad and paper, And the memory in my head.

I hear nobody’s been killed in a computer crash, But when it happens they wish they were dead.

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