whose life would be untempered bliss,
were it not for the friction
caused by Internet addiction,
so she spends her nights writing on this.
There once was a girl who loved Guster,
And with all the love she could muster,
she listened and sang,
as the chords they all rang,
With such music, she'd never feel flustered,
There once was a girl late at night,
who blogged as a form of respite,
from her grown-up chores,
(balancing checkbooks and more)
but now wonders if it was right.