BY THOMAS MHANDO
I made a password strong and grand,
With numbers no one could understand,
And symbols scattered by command.
I wrote it down, then hid the note,
Inside a drawer beneath an old coat,
A place I swore no thief could float.
Three days later I lost the key,
The password vanished entirely,
And memory refused to rescue me.
I tried my birthday, failed again,
Then childhood names from way back when,
And blamed the phone for my own brain.
At last I clicked “Forgot Password,”
And received the answer in one word:
“Create a password you can remember.”
thomas.mhando@gmail.com
