Folly

Auto-correct and Grammar Damners

Auto-correct and Grammar-Damners

©Dec. 27th 2019, Olan L. Smith

What a dreadful beast by far,

You finish my words before they are, are, exemp-lar!

This for that, hat for cat, and shit for shat,

You are a duplicable achievement, a pin in my hat,

But you could have helped me before my ex went south.

If you could edit the words out of my mouth

Before they hit the chilly air, ring and zing with fire,

To the very core of the hearers' heart, oh, it's most dire

To have your words consume your sphere, burn, burn, burn.

It is never someone else's concern, dag burn, discern

It before you declare. But no, you are the writer, finger fighter,

Stick the cigar in your mouth, and you become the lighter,

Strike the match, and edit my attitude, change my words,

Turn everything I write into fanciful, danciful, turds.

Alas, auto-correct and grammar-damners of thought,

I can delete your program, along with everything else I bought.

(A.N. No paper, exes, words, or spellcheckers where harmed in the writing of this couplet poem)