I never liked to talk on the telephone.
We never had one until I was thirteen.
It seemed strange to stare at a box on the wall,
And have conversation with one I’d never seen.
But even if I knew the name and the voice,
I couldn’t see the sparkle or frown in the eye.
It seemed so hard to express all that I felt;
I could hardly wait to tell my friend, “Good-by.”
Through the years I have adjusted a little;
But I still put off a call when I can.
It seems that “the thing” rings incessantly,
And life becomes so much harder to plan.
When I go to visit a very dear friend,
She always seems to be talking “on the “phone.”
So in this day of communication,
Why do I often feel left all alone?
I know a phone can be very important.
Yet, when it seems nearly glued to each ear;
We’ve lost the communication in our families;
And that is one thing I’ve always held dear
Now, with the calling and all of the texting,
I wonder what will be next on the scene.
How I long for the happy days of childhood,
When living at home seemed to be so serene.
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