He's sitting there in the coffee shop,
every day, alone, solitary, absorbed,
making love to that wretched phone.
Get off that phone, Michael!
He's never fully with those he greets,
hands glued to that thing,
no matter who he meets.
Get off that phone, Michael!
The phone is his whole life -
emails, news, messages, everything.
He married it, made it his wife.
Get off that phone, Michael!
When he cared more for the phone than the street,
he shot up to his heavenly home,
and God said, "You're welcome, but -
Get off that phone, Michael!"
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