Twas once upon a year ago
I thought I knew my name.
Just what has happened since that time
might let me place the blame.

I signed a piece of paper,
and I put it somewhere plain.
My name was written clear as day;
I know I'm not insane.

I've looked up high;
I've looked down low---
and places in between.
But no where in this house of mine
can any note be seen.

If I can go by what I'm called,
I'm even more confused.
It seems I have a lot of names---
which leave me unamused.

'Honey Bun' and 'Sweetie Pie'
don't bother me a bit;
but certainly 'Old Lady' makes
me want to throw a fit.

'Hey You' might be my first and last;
I wonder if it's true
that 'Stupid Dummy' just could be
the one that sticks like glue.

Too often, I hear anger
in a voice that makes it clear
'Dam U' must be a prefix
plus initial that I hear.

Confusion has a hold on me;
my mem'ry flew away.
If you can figure out my name,
I'd thank you if you'd say.

Did you say my email comes
addressed to who I am?
Oh, wait! I think I've got it now---
my name is surely 'SPAM!'

By Peggy Paris

© 2008 Peggy Paris (All rights reserved)