I am the one they call computer,
info I have stored.
I must work when I am asked,
I never can be bored.
HP, Acer, Apple,
are names I am known by.
No emotions do I have,
I cannot laugh or cry.
When you display the home screen,
I show you all my tasks.
Some are easy, some are hard.
I do what you may ask.
Like many of you humans,
when all my powers gone.
I cannot work when I am down,
I\'m best when I\'m turned on.
You yell at me and scream at me,
when I’m out of service.
When you can\'t get what you want,
I know that makes you nervous.
When I am not connected,
to my information vault,
I can not give what you want,
but please, it\'s not my fault.
The one who is at fault in this,
believe me it\'s not me.
But if we work together,
let\'s see, who can it be?
I think that we could work it out,
I wonder what\'s his game.
But to get this poem published,
we shall not use his name.
I must state here how I feel,
when following a mistake.
The wrath is not deserved by me,
so please, give me a break.
I do my best, with what I have,
within my plastic hull.
I wonder how you\'d like it,
if they called you . . .“terminal”.