(With Apologies to Edgar Allan Poe)
"You've Got Mail!"--the words surprised me,
As those once friends had now advised me,
That to a man they now despis'd me,
O'er a stock pick since gone bad.
A stock whose virtues I had shouted,
Whose prospects I had gently touted,
Whose master plan I never doubted,
To make me rich beyond compare.
But now that demon equity,
That dreaded, curs'd THMZ,
Whose very name has come to be,
Synonymous with bleak despair,
Now haunts me through a one word e-mail,
Meant to conjure fret and fear:
A succinct, chilling cybermessage,
Surely meant to bring no cheer,
Quoth the e-mail: LAMINAIRE (.com) (Spooky, huh?)
Shaken, worried, and despondent
O'er the thought my correspondent,
Blamed me, and me alone,
For each and every worthless share;
Blamed me, and sought some vengeance for,
A wretched outcome viewed unfair,
Blamed me, and once again dispatched that trisyllabic name I fear:
Yes, once again just: LAMINAIRE (.com)
To be continued (maybe) |
