Wizzley ah you break me from my stress and monotonous day,
your tab always open, on display
I work I work I work some more, then the work makes me complacent feels like a chore (off Wizzley work of course)
I enter through the wizards door, and throw my comments on the floor, read and responded,
conversations forged, going way off topic a conversational gorge...
When the conversation is done, earmarked by silence, the fun work has begun,
opening "my pages" finding a draft, work it into art from it's current form daft...
Spin through my drafts like swimming through emotions, to choose, ah there it is, the one I just cannot refuse...
Open in edit, move to the copy, look at the pictures, someone stop me!
A tweak here moving a module there, ah it's perfect, and it only took me all day to get here...
Bouncing between work and the fun, wizzley is now a cog in a machine ready to run...
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For fun...
add your day or vision of a "wizzley experience" written into a poem/rhyme of a line or two... then someone else add one... let's quilt a wizzley poem... (someone give me a beat...)