The phone sings into my life from
Its still place in the corner,
Fulfilling the role of messenger
Holding onto elation or devastation,
Chit chat or sales voice of persuasion.
A tracking device linking into our whereabouts,
Held on our person, in car or walking mode,
Connecting us with another soul.
At one time these sentences would wait,
Storing up conversation and expectancy,
Now, the turn off mode rarely used,
Its surface new alongside never ending
Chit chat from keys depressed at expert
Speed and dialogue, via shortcuts
To the english language,
Discouraging correct terminology, a dislike
To some, taught in the old school.
Shall we exercise our way back from here
I doubt we can...we never will

This never ending chit chat mode.