The Northeast Corner of My Screen
Oh, blinking, dancing paper clip! You blight upon my screen! You are a pain, Oh prompt inane! The target of my spleen! Unless you catch me in a gaffe, You merely doze or stare; But if I make the slightest slip, You just go nuts, I swear! You tear around, wave in my face, You tap upon the glass, You... Sign in to see full entry.