Double Relief

A 2012 poem.

I'm the editor, she's the typing chief
we deliver each other relief
She types for me, her fingers seem to fly
I type with two fingers, her typing brings a sigh
She has trouble writing perfectly words
I edit her writings and all is cured
We write on and off throughout the days, and the nights
it consumes reality, nothing seems to bite
I'm the editor, she's the typing chief
we deliver each other relief
Down life's road we go, pens in hand
wishing for success, sounds oh so grand
The plagues of the world wreak their toll
writing is sanctuary for the soul