an ode to Writing.Com |
Your fingers fly over the keys. Your gaze intent, glued to the screen. There’s so much to do, so much to look at, You can scarcely comprehend the scope. What should you do next? Should you dive In and swoop Out? Should you warm your cold hands at a flickering Campfire? Should you abandon your solitary ways and become Interactive? Should you Survey or Quiz your life? Or perhaps Poll your attitudes and beliefs, Or just a quirky notion? Or perhaps engage in a Contest, Pit yourself against others of similar caliber? Should you Read or Write? Why not roll the Virtual Dice and take a chance? Your poor brain is spinning with the complexities Of lexicography in virtual form. You join Groups, you form your own Of like-minded individuals With addictions like yours. You hope your Forum gains a quorum, Or your Blog a dedicated following. You could Chat for hours on end On the most frivolous subjects, While your dinner grows cold and neglected beside you, And a stack of abandoned homework glares at you, While even your dog gazes imploringly at you To stop for just a minute and let him out. But you can’t stop—what if something happens? What if Gift Points shower over your head, Or your Merits gain Badges, Or your entries Awardicons? There’s so much that could happen, You couldn’t possibly get off yet. Not—just—yet. |