A poem… by someone else.

From the “AlphaForager” (a co-hort at the Great Retail Empire):

All I hear is the pitter patter of finger tips gingerly dancing across keys.
Every character typed with delirium or deliberation?
Word by word and line by line the great retail giant we strive to please.
Are we the slaves to or saviors of this IT nation?

He’s got mad poetry skillz.

Oh, and he LOVED my answers to all the questions you readers have posted. I think he’s been warped just that much more.

Until next time...

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