by K.C. Jean Kellam

Created on: April 09, 2008

I have a sinful obsession with the hard click of the keys
Each pause in the air fills my creative heart with glee
From a thrift store or an old tool shed
My friend the typewriter is far from dead

It has followed me through childhood
Through puberty and on even still
I have trusted it with my secrets
Into adulthood, my heart I spill

To this silent symbol
Of life and once up a times
Of a million poems that escaped my mind
To this virtous partner in all of my crimes

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