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The Hymn to the Remote Control
Thy shape is made to fit perfectly into my hand,
as if you had been born with the intention of being mine.
Thou dark colors may be bland,
yet they comfort me in my times of need.
Thou accept and praise my laziness,
and never expect me to change.
I could sit here with thou forever,
and not be judged by disapproving eyes, for you have none.
If it has not already been mentioned,
thou art the most useful of tools.
Thy buttons change the realities for me,
so I never have to learn to do it on my own.
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