Typecast

In junior high, I learned to type –
I visualize the room;
Typewriters lined up in rows
Is what you would assume.

That is correct, although one detail
Isn’t what you’d think –
Among the gray or black machines,
One stood out – it was pink.

Another one was turquoise –
All the rest were rather plain.
I’d always try to claim a color,
Usually in vain.

We’d strike the keys to practice speed –
F – G – F – G – F – G;
But looking up, that turquoise
Was the only thing I’d see.

I’d envy anyone who had
The turquoise or the pink.
Occasionally, I’d get one
And my world would be in sync.

I read an article last week
That typewriters are back,
Younger folks discovering
The joys of clack clack clack.

I’d love to have my own –
It would connect that early link;
But only if I’d find one
Colored turquoise or hot pink.

Let me know if you should hear
That one still does exist;
I’ll be typing queen again,
Just like I reminisced.