A Phone Is Always There Poem by Phil Soar

When my phone is there, beside the bed
Playing with things, deep in my head
Reminding me almost all day, of events
Some I've forgotten, or that just don't make sense

Adverts that seem to appear from the blue
Tempting me, asking me, 'Write a review'
Hoping to sell some weird random shit
That will stay in its box, as I'll never use it

Messages come through, all the hours of the day
Who can be sending them, please go away
I don't know, perhaps I 'ticked' some internet box
And ordered a pair of an unknown stores socks

Perhaps someone's 'phising', to steal my persona
Or trying to work out, if I am a loner
To pray on senility, to rob me of cash
If they get all your details, your privacy's dashed

I try to ignore all the ringtones I hear
As one of those might end up costing me dear
But I can't switch it off, for the fear that it brings
When my phone's always there, all day it just sings