Screw The Phone Poem by David Darbyshire

One of her hands I am holding
The other she holds my phone
I have one hand free
And it's scratching my cheekbone
Were should that hand be
Let it swing so merrily?
As we walk along the beach
Cause every time I try to grab my phone
She keeps it out of reach

So I Wisk her up in my big strong arms
And run into the water
Still she’s on the phone
Talking with her mother
As we submerge beneath the bubbles
I think is my watch waterproof
And in my pocket is a load of cash
Screw the phone
In the other was my stash