My dear effects machine,
I'm sorry I was mean,
As foolishly as I treated you,
you'd think I was on gleam,

I must've been acting immature,
When I gave you a nasty kick,
I suppose it's because that gesture
makes other things go quick,

Even still, that's no excuse;
You're just fine as you are,
The backgrounds you faithfully produce,
Outclass illusions by quite far,

You work time and time again,
Puttering away so loyal,
To bring us smoke, or wind, or rain,
Only stopping for more oil,

To think, with no effects machine,
How drab our plays would be,
We bards would have to make silly sounds,
And wear our scenery,

So to all of you less expierenced,
Or old folks not so keen,
If you wish to get your kicks,
Try Bopalopia's machine,

For this machine has feelings
A fact now clear to me,
I'm thankful for the Lord Bard's gift,
And offer my apology.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Chronos, in the year 408 AF.