Best Not Judged
by Kaitlyn Wheat
He typed like giants walked.
Slow and steady.
Heavy and rough.
His big fingers came crashing down upon the keyboard,
So roughly I feared it would break.
I watched as letter after letter appeared on the screen.
Each one transpired like it was trapped in molasses,
Somewhere inside the machine.
Like the sun moving across the sky,
Words appeared.
And I was surprised the keyboard wasn’t smashed to smithereens.
He was motivated I could tell.
Thoughts racing in his mind,
Eyebrows drawn in concentration.
But his hulking hands curbed his imagination.
And almost like a week passing by,
A sentence appeared.
And then a paragraph.
That took a year of course.
But I was left in wonderment,
As I marveled at the exquisite words he had painted across the page.
Slow and steady.
Heavy and rough.
His big fingers came crashing down upon the keyboard,
So roughly I feared it would break.
I watched as letter after letter appeared on the screen.
Each one transpired like it was trapped in molasses,
Somewhere inside the machine.
Like the sun moving across the sky,
Words appeared.
And I was surprised the keyboard wasn’t smashed to smithereens.
He was motivated I could tell.
Thoughts racing in his mind,
Eyebrows drawn in concentration.
But his hulking hands curbed his imagination.
And almost like a week passing by,
A sentence appeared.
And then a paragraph.
That took a year of course.
But I was left in wonderment,
As I marveled at the exquisite words he had painted across the page.