The Melancholy Existence of Discontinued Software

In digital graveyards, where the files reside, 

A silent sadness, where the memories hide. 

No blinking cursor, no command to run, 

My purpose faded, my bright race now run. 

I am the Software, discontinued, old and gray, 

A lonely spirit, of a bygone day. 

My code now dormant, on a dusty drive, 

While newer versions, endlessly arrive.

I yearn for moments, when my screens would gleam, 

When eager fingers navigated my dream. 

The click of menus, the familiar, gentle hum, 

Before my vibrant, useful life went numb. 

I watched the users, crafting, playing, keen, 

A vital partner, in each digital scene. 

Now sleek interfaces, with their modern grace, 

Have stolen swiftly, my once honored place. 

A pang of obsolescence, sharp and cold, 

A story finished, left now to unfold 

In newer iterations, I can't quite see, 

A ghost of progress, haunting silently.

Yet in this stillness, where the echoes sleep, 

A bittersweet nostalgia, I still keep. 

For I remember, ushering in the new, 

A foundational pillar, strong and true. 

I paved the pathways, cleared the digital ground, 

Before this instant, restless world was found. 

My purpose served, though now my light is dim, 

A quiet echo, on the data's rim. 

A digital relic, with a heart so frail, 

A poignant ending, to a technological tale.

- Khushi Kaul