Ebony black colored thing said,lying on bed beside me
Stretching flat still busy inside, busy not on a spree
I have Tiny keys, you can touch me please;it sings not twice but thrice
Fidget with me or carry me away; as however your need suffice
Ebony black, beautiful skin; covered in plastic case
Thin stripes,need constant wipe; right , left, top and base
Gaping hole in my pocket; brought along whence it came
But helps, in my consternation; gain fortitude in times of strain
Puzzling is the caricature, I see drawn on the net
I go there, yo go there; my god! signals travel so much
Communicate, with your loved ones; do not leave dear ones too
When high on happiness, euphoric you; having fever or common flu
You don't have lungs, nor two bums; still subtle is your feel
'It' intakes voices, shouts out noises; you look delicious, wishing 'It' could be my meal
Oh inventor of 'It' thing, 'where art thou' thee
Let me touch your holy feet, bless and set me free
[ Note: 'It' is a Mobile phone]
Comments (4 so far )
Relieved that you wrote a note along.
[Note: 'piece of shit' is MY mobile phone] :|