Oh woe my soul,

to see a sight so dark and somber,

filled with empty and no light,

no phone no dms.

 

A plea not heard,

skipped the classes,

the unnecessary of that which I behold.

 

So mono and illogical,

my mind trembles in such sorrow.

​

Crying in fear of what they may bring tomorrow,

oh what a day indeed!

​

A phone lost from misdeed,

oh how shall I proceed?

​

Must I suffer a week or suffer three?

​

Suffer on till I learn not to be,

so flippant so rebelling,

against that which I should not be?

​

To class I will go,

to please the one who matters most,

and so the phone shall return to my beautiful soul.

​

Soon I will be whole,

with a phone in reach of my hand,

a caress a happy sound,

pleasing to my ears, to my heart, to the great beyond.

​

Oh how happy I will be,

when I suffer long and dreadfully.

​

But at the end,

I shall receive the one I hold dear and close to me,

my phone in its most absolutely glory.