Yet another typo missed by the spell check
Draft after draft I have to type again
My fingers move faster than a hen’s peck
Or get judge’s comments full of disdain.
Proofreading screams at mistakes in grammar
The anger I feel is building up inside
Start again I don’t want all the drama
Just so editors won’t push me aside.
Yet more errors to infuriate me
Hours spent in front of the glaring screen.
I’m now going to be late home for tea,
Patience all gone, it’s now a has been.
System failure its now quite grotesque
That is how my keys ended in the desk
© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.
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