by | Sep 6, 2017 | Poetry | 0 comments


In cafes, restaurants and bars
On buses, lorries, backs of cars
It seems that people can’t leave home
Without their personal telephone

They’re walking down a busy street
Oblivious to all they meet
Chins tucked down against their chest
As if conducting some great quest

I don’t know how they find their way
When looking down at phones all day
In every village, city, town
They spend their day just looking down

They bump into you as they pass
And then call YOU a silly ass
Un-repentant, head held down
They sally forth with angry frown

Now if I use my phone at all
It’s to receive or make a call
I never check it when I walk
And always stop to text or talk

So why do some folk think it’s grand
To walk all day with phone in hand?
Forever checking mail or text
This trend is making me so vexed

I really should learn to forgive
Just nurse my bruises, live let live
Yet how I’d love a jutting pole
To trip them up into a hole!

© Don Holmes


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