Mobile Addiction.

a poem by Mark Ainslie, UK

The battery fades watching what trends,
And keeping tracks of all their friends.
An all night charge is what it took,
It'll last all day now with a bit of luck.

First thing in the morning,when their eyes can see,
Reaching out to where the phone will be.
Wondering if an unheard text is there to read.
Or maybe an e-mail or a Facebook feed.

Unimportant gossip, and what friends have done,
They must respond at once with speed of thumb.
Even though they are barely awake,
Split seconds is all it seems to take.

They wait eagerly for some kind of reply,
If nothing comes back they wonder why.
They check the signal's strong on the phone,
And then relief with the received message tone.

Sitting off with colleagues on a break,
No words or discussion they will make.
Showing others what they have seen,
Sliding fingers down the screen.

Walking through the crowd with phone in hand,
Difficult for their elders to understand.
The art of conversation, not the same.
I guess phone's on charge all night again.

Copyright Mark Ainslie 2015.

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