I woke up this morning and lifted my head --
went straight for my iPhone and learned it was dead.
I pushed all the buttons on my little phone --
but nothing – no nothing – not even a groan.
The screen, it was black, it was black as could be.
How could this happen? This phone wasn’t free.
While fixing my breakfast and drinking my brew --
I tried to think what in the world should I do?
It must have been hours – I started to cry.
My friends must all think that I went off to die.
No emails to check and no apps to peruse.
No messages, music, no Facebook, NO NEWS!
Then, off to the phone store I flew in a flash.
‘Twas like I was running the hundred yard dash.
A sweet young technician of maybe eighteen
quietly stared -- like my phone was obscene.
My options were few since I NEEDED a phone
with a beep and a chirp and charming ringtone.
I chose a red one with a shiny bright case
That fit in my hand as it cradled my face.
The price of this phone gave my wallet a fright.
But on the drive home – this bad day became bright.
Now from my sweet garden I’m texting with glee.
A party is brewing -- you know what to do – Call me!
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Author Notes
I watch people who seem to be addicted to their phones who talk through dinner, talk while driving, while walking and some even say they sleep with their phones.
To my surprise, when my phone died, I felt like something really important was missing and I had to fix it. This gave me a different perspective of others but also of me.
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