Ode to 🆄

Hark to me, people, and now hear me do,

I've lost a dear friend: the letter 🆄.

Yes indeed, yo🆄 listened me correct,

This is worst at best, and everything is wrecked.

For I awoke to-day to q🆄ite a big fright—

My tr🆄sty ol' typer-thing wasn't typing right!

All the pretty letters were working, save 🆄.

Down a whole vowel; my worst dreams were tr🆄e!

So "Blast!" I cried. "What crime be this?

If I'm witho🆄t 🆄, then I can't do j🆄stice

To my day job as a writer,

Or my night life as a fighter

Of everything online that's 🆄gly and sad.

I cannot tell a lie—this is really, really bad!"

So I laid myself down on the gro🆄nd for a while,

And I wept for 🆄 there in tra🆄matized style.

I h🆄rt for 🆄; yes, I missed 🆄 like a friend,

Tho🆄ght of all the things I'd never write again—

Things like f🆄nny, and y🆄mmy, and alphabet so🆄p;

H🆄mor, I. O. 🆄., and I love yo🆄.

I stayed there on the floor and time went by.

Presently eno🆄gh there was no more need to cry.

S🆄ddenly then I was str🆄ck by the tho🆄ght:

🆄 really did nothing to deserve what 🆄 got.

And j🆄st like that, my grief t🆄rned to rage

As I realized there was a war for me to wage!

🆄 did nothing wrong; 'twas the Apple God's sin!

The Apple God took 🆄—so let the battle begin!

A hex 🆄pon thee, Apple God! May all c🆄rses fall on thee!

May yo🆄 ever r🆄e the day that yo🆄 took 🆄 from me!

I will get my revenge, or I will die trying!

Either Apple God or I—one of 🆄s is dying!