*This poem was not written by a poet.Β 

I was inspired to write this after losing my cell phone today for the umpteenth time. Finding a little humor in the major irritation that is losing or breaking an iPhone was really all I could do. You should pity me. Again, I am not a poet so sorry for cheesy rhyming!

I love them and I lose them everywhere I go.

I break them and I crash them, in summer, rain or snow.

 

It started in the 90s, when my first cell phone was bought.

A bulky, rectangular symbol of my teenage status wrought.

I left it on top of trucks, in bathrooms or in bars.

I crushed it under tennis shoes, motorcycles and cars.

 

From a Zach Morris size to a smaller, lighter frame

My flip phone made me feel so cool, like that college-loving dame.

It’s been left at race tracks, theme parks, gas stations and the like.

I even dropped it on the ground when I was singing at open mic.

 

Friends have found it in their seats, in corners of their homes,

Even in coat pockets, on back porches and places they’d never have known.

At house parties and birthday dinners, in port-o-johns and more

There’s not a place this girl hasn’t left her cell phone, that’s for darn sure.

 

When iPhone finally made her way, I stared at her with grief

How would I, breaker of all, ever stand up to this chief?

And just like all the others, I broke and lost her too.

I stepped on her in the lobby, after dropping on the floor.

On the concrete in the parking garage, in the swivel of a door.

 

One them still lives abroad, connecting folks in the Congo.

It’s in the back of a jeep with a man who can sell it for very, very low.

Yes, I left it there, an accident I grieve

Those photos and videos I’ll never be able to retrieve.

 

Now the Target bathroom has taken me for a storm.

Why do I always do this? Shouldn’t I be well-worn?

Maybe it’s my nature, maybe it’s my thorn.

But were I the subject of some crazy, ridiculous roast,

This would no doubt be the main theme of the evening midnight toast.

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