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Tripp Prevatt Oct 2011
The news comes to us
Running all around
Coming from the air
And from the ground.

Happy news sad news,
Any type of feed,
Computers are shoes,
Running us what we need.

You can surf it you can scroll it,
Or even search google
You can find the perfect color
To match you white poodle.

You search all day,
And even all night,
And the results are run to you,
Like they are running from a fight.

You can search sitting down,
You can search standing up,
You can search foreign languages,
On how to say whats up.

Want to impress you girlfriend,
Show her you can cook,
Pull up a recipe on google,
You don’t have to search a book.
Want the newest fashion news,
And the newest styles,
They are only a click away,
Within the internet files.

Shoes are the foundation,
That we live on every day,
And computers are that foundation,
That we use everyday.

Computers run information,
Going and coming to and fro,
They can tell you the directions,
for where you want to go.

Computers are shoes,
They are solids we rely on,
You can use them for your homework,
To find a certain ion.

So this poem is over now,
And I think you get my point,
Computer are shoes,
This is my poem joint.
Tripp Prevatt Oct 2011
When thinking about backgammon and playing the game,
It makes me feel kinds dead like rigomortis , being lame,
I don’t mean to deluge info with a flood of knowledge to you,
But my brain is a globular cluster with knowledge you never knew.

Now ill give you an orison a hope for a great day,
So you can make it over the skybridge in one piece but not one way,
But enough about the future I know you have chronomentrophia,
But who cares tomorrow is Guy Fawkes day so live in your own utopia!

— The End —