in ,

Rantings of a Mobile Phone

“Ouch!! It hurts!!!”

I wondered who said that!

“Ouch!!! It hurts!!!”

The cry echoed again,

Oh! My phone was the cry baby.

.

My phone said,

“You guys poke us,

With your fingers and

Scratch us with your sharp nails

And the stylus too.

.

We get suffocated,

And strangulated

When you squeeze us

Into your pockets,

And dingy bags.

.

We are either overfed,

That our tummies burst,

Or malnourished,

That we just go blank.

Can’t you just feed us right?

.

We feel our great grandparents,

Mr. Nokia 3310 and his friends,

Were the luckiest,

As they faded off,

Much before this torture.

.

Even now, as I vent out,

My madame poet, is poking me,

As she is typing down

My rantings, into a poem,

As her entry for the letter R! “

.

Pic Courtesy : AgΓͺ Barros on Unsplash

Kirti V

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Written by Kirti V

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