The Cell Phone

Pitter patter,
Don’t look out of the window, child
The world has gone wild.
For that isn’t the sound of rain.
Those are fingers sprinting on the fast lane.
It is not in a stadium.
The lane is on the cell phone screen.
No victor on the podium,
It’s just a bunch of texting teens.
I must warn you before I proceed.
That child, the world has already gone wild.
Cell phones grab the eyeballs of these teens
And smear that super-glue of hers, and brings these sticky things
Into her arms, never letting go.
And then, she seals their lips
And plant their hips
Onto the couch,
Making them slouch,
Wasting their lives staring at that little machine
And then, that sinister portal sucks out these vibrant souls
Replace it with ghouls,
And these teens will just keep on tapping
Texting,
Mailing,
Internet surfing,
Never-endingly.
Child, don’t be amazed, for this is the world today.
Hear me out, mark the words I say.
Be wary when you get yourself that evil cell.
Or, do me a favour, crush it, and send it to hell.