Mistaken Identity (or ‘when the email was wrongly designated as spam’

The email sat.

Like that.

Outbox.

Inbox.

Boxed in.

Back, forth, back,

Single track.

Sat.

Life flat.

Once a draft.

Never laughed, never smiled,

Merely whiled time away.

Older with each folder.

Then one day it bounced!

Pounced and sprang, sang:

‘I am Spam! Spam I am!’

Learned to leap, prance, dance in the ether!

Full of daring, not caring whether

It was read.

No longer dead.

Somersaulted, cybervaulted through wires,

New thoughts and desires

Coursing through its letters.

Throwing off fetters to announce:

I am Spam,

I bounce.

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