The loyal friend ...

knocked and hit,

battered and bruised;

flipped and flicked,

hassled and hammered;

he is the poet's true companion

since time unknown

and time captured.

Puffy stiff and grey,

dying to call it a day,

yet withstanding the poet’s rage

as he is stuck with a virgin page;

the old, shabby type writer,

still with him as a true cohort

and a fighter.

When the poet was young,

he had let him climb on his shoulder

and allowed him to play, tease

and scribble.

On the poet’s wedding day,

he has produced the greatest love notes

about a joyous cloud and a drizzle.

often, with patience he has watched

the poet's stare and dull despair,

But now, no more with ease

the fatigued keys would yield,

as the words get wan and fractured;

now, both tease each other about their

receding hair line and vision blurred.

Poor old machine,

tried and trusted friend;

time proceeds

the poet, proud with

advancement and technology's ascend;

has no courage to face him,

the type writer waits in an old attic.

so for all the million words that are tapped

a rhyme or two is better rapped

in his memory of past frolic

as in his lap lies the poet's life-lyrics.

The poet should wake up at least once in separation

for he fed his wife and children because his friend was in action.

for - ONE STOP POETRY - picture prompt.