Together with the proof you are never alone <br />Fried brains come free with your mobile phone. <br />Hear the pop of cells in your ear as you speak - <br />Yes, you're on your way to becoming a freak <br />With no live brains to call your own <br />Since you've fried them on your mobile phone. <br /> <br />Wherever you are, on a bus or in a mall, <br />Or office or pub or at a game of football, <br />Attend to your charge, for in your ear <br />That siren's song of the mobile you'll hear. <br />There's no escape - cradle it and be damned; <br />You must, if you use it, be so condemned. <br /> <br />At every turn comes a need to converse, <br />But consider you phone as a kind of a hearse, <br />And that that ever faithful appendage of man, <br />Your skull, can act as a cooking pan. <br />The smell of frying you can easily endure <br />Against which no firm will willingly insure. <br /> <br />Oh, perish such thoughts, for after all, <br />What should matter but the next phone call? <br />Phone salesmen will say you've cells enough, <br />That there's a supply sufficient of such stuff <br />So you may talk forever and never die; <br />No need to worry about the cells that fry. <br /> <br />True, cells once zapped are zapped altogether <br />Thanks to what comes from out of the ether. <br />But, though you can't recharge them to get them back, <br />You may never notice that there's a lack. <br />So buy a phone, why be at all pensive? <br />Are a million brain cells that expensive? <br /> <br />What have they cost you except pain? <br />They could have made you a rebel, sent you insane. <br />You can say that the loss is really a gain. <br />And, just you wait, when your head's turned to stone, <br />And you heartbeat's little more than a groan, <br />There may yet come some message from your mobile phone.<br /><br />Paul Lester<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-curse-of-the-mobile-phone/
