Prisoner to the Cell Phone
The phone rules my life my night, my day
Prisoner to the Cell Phone
In a cell with walls so bare and grey,
An old lady sat, had a chuckle and say,
“Now I see the reason, the clever pun,
Why they call it a cell phone, it’s not just for fun
It’s not about calling, it’s more like a chain,
We’re hooked to the screen, again and again.
We scroll through the world, we tap and we swipe,
Our phones are our cells, that’s the type
No guards, no bars, just a screen in hand,
We’re captives of tech in this modern land.
We laugh, we cry, we share our lives,
Yet from this small screen, no one truly thrives.
So here’s to the irony, a truth we now see,
Our phones are our cells, in a digital sea.
We might just escape with a smile and a wink,
And find freedom again, faster than we think.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
I had never thought of it like that, but you are absolutely right. Cell phones control most people's lives these days because they do everything. I am not sure it is a good thing, but it is here to stay. Great poem.
Good one, Miss Marie. We all should try to undo the chain that binds.