Tearing Acid

I had a friend who told me once
There was this book she knew.
It changed the way she saw the world
Once she had read it through.

That sounded great, and so I asked
If I could read it too.
She said that’s fine, but warned me that
“Just they could sell to you”.

“Who is this they?”, I asked, confused,
“‘Just they’, this they, just who?”
She shrugged, and said “all that I know’s
It’s cursed on reader two.

And so I bought a copy that
Would be my own to use.
I read the book; it touched my heart.
Each sentence I perused.

Such great a book, I thought to myself,
To share, I just must do.
Though I was warned, I lent my book
To someone else I knew.

Immediately upon the sense
Of fingers that were new,
The pages all to acid turned,
And words no longer true.

That books now came with “features” thus,
It blew my mind askew.
This book I bought was now a pile
Of shreds, I so now rue.

If only it were so allowed
I’d share this book with you,
But ’til we quench the acid threat,
To share it, I can’t do.

In two days is Day Against DRM. Find more about how Digital Rights Management helps make life more unreasonable at defectivebydesign.org.


3 thoughts on “Tearing Acid”

    1. Hi. I don’t see either a “they’re” or a “their” in my poem. Are you sure that’s what you wanted to point out?

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