Death of a friend
29 Oct 2004 
in the wee hours 
Matt Winckler
If I were creative like Eric, I would write a touching poem about the tragic death of a dearly loved one: the Personal Digital Assistant that personally and digitally assisted me so often. Truly, it was the handheld device that held my hand through so many trials.
However, since I’m not creative enough to write poetry, I will write some *u to commemmorate the peripheral’s passing:
My Handspring Visor
Was wonderful while it lived
But now it is junk
If that didn’t tug on your heartstrings, try this one on for size:
Since my handheld died
Blackest angst has siezed my heart
For death takes us all
That one had perhaps a little too much Goth and not enough feeling. One more effort:
Great sadness fills me
As I recognize the need
To buy a new one
Hmmm…now that has potential, especially to be taken out of context. But no, I fear I am simply too overwhelmed with grief to come up with any nice poetry. I trust that perhaps Mr. Robinson will make some time in his busy schedule when he returns from foreign lands to generate something suitable to commemmorate the obliteration of my organizer.