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Jul 2013
A phone call.
What a terrible invention.
They only bring depression,
If I could never receive a call again I'd be happy.
It's a constant reminder no one wants to speak to you;
Someone calling has only brought misery.
But with each glance I pray that someone knows my number;
hopefully they didn't have chubby child like fingers.
Maybe they wrote it down wrong, because we were in a rush.
Maybe I'm just under the wrong name, maybe they heard it was James, even though that sounds nothing like Michael.
Maybe just maybe my carrier is down, my phone is not working.
I'll check, nope everything is working.
Why would I ask for such a call to come to me?
When the only things I've ever been told in a phone call have brought me to tears.
Things like I think we should break up, no longer see each other, just be friends.
Being told hey this family member is sick and dying of cancer,
while I'm lucky sometimes to get that call that notifies me that someone is sick.
I get those delayed calls, how your best friend just died from a brain aneurysm.
While my second mother sounds like she may be dying as well.
I don't know if she called to say I was lucky to know she's sick, or to tell me my phone *****.
Because to be honest I hope no one knows my number.
So I'm going to keep talking to only chubby friends, so they keep messing up my number.
I may not always be in a rush, but I'll give an ink pen that spills
I'll tell them to put me under that name James and never bring it up again, so they forget.
can't do anything about my carrier, but I can do something about my phone
I don't have one, it rest with my best friend.
I don't like this poem, but my friend rj said he liked it so whatever.
Michael Ryan
Written by
Michael Ryan  31/United States
(31/United States)   
933
 
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