Oh, soldering iron,
you troublesome bastard.
Dead, you are, but not forgotten.

Four square pounds you cost me,
hundreds of hours of nosebleeds,
a shitload of burns,
lots of fun.

Fifteen years, you lasted,
you old bugger.
Now you’re dead.
You were my favourite,
my first.

Dear reader, have you ever had a favourite tool?
It’s heartbreaking when they die, isn’t it?
I’ve had this since my teenage years,
used it lots.

No matter what, I always went back to you.
You were an industrious wee thing,
never steered me wrong,
never gave me a bad joint.

Rest in peace.
I hope you don’t mind me replacing you.
I need a new one...