The Dreaded Cell Phone

So the life that we lead
To keep us in touch,
Is the phone in our hand
Which now is a crutch,

We use it to talk
To take photos too,
Thousands of selfies
With me and with you,

We're texting and tweeting
Our personal junk,
Sometimes it's sweet
Or it smells like a skunk,

We use it to do
All our banking online,
Or google the info
That we want to find,

We see all the news
And the weather reports,
The political backlash
And civilian deports,

We never let go
It's attached to our hand,
This four by eight inch
Gold wedding band,

We sit at the table
And nobody speaks,
We look at our phones
A dimension of freaks,

It doesn't get better
It only gets worse,
It stays in our pocket
Our hand or our purse,

It's breaking up families
Split couples - alone,
There's no way to change
The 'dreaded' cell phone.