The Telephone Booth Poem by michael Smajda

At the time it cost a dime
To enter a telephone booth.
And to talk aloud
In midst a crowd
Was considered impolite, uncouth,
So, , what you did
Was sort of hid
And close the telephone booth door
So, every word
Could not be heard
Was what the telephone booth was for.
Now, everybody talks
And nobody mocks
One talking, in public, using an I-phone.
Privacy is gone.
Time marches on.
Past telephone booth history is now known.