The Song of the Phone

Richard

Poem Image
Track 1

Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. Take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.

Easy Mode - Auto check enabled
From dawn 'til day is done,
A person sits, all alone, forlorn,
To escape this digital snare,
Conversations left unsaid,
Oh! Men with sisters dear!
With fingers weary and worn,
In a world that's lost its way,
Swipe! Scroll! Swipe!
'Til the sun outside starts to lap,
Through curated, filtered scenes,
For the phone calls, a siren's spread,
With fingers weary and worn,
Tap, tap, tap,
And relationships wilt in the gloom.
While the real world takes a nap,
On its endless feed, they feed.
But the phone's grip is tight,
Oh! But to breathe the air,
Oh! Men with mothers and wives!
And eyes heavy and red,
And they can't look away, can't look away.
Love letters left unread,
And still, with a vacant stare, they type,
On the glass, cold and bright,
In the phone's pale, ghostly glow.
And find true human bliss.
A connection to nowhere, instead.
Compare, contrast, despair,
A constant, hungry need,
Not the screens that rule your lives!
A person sits, all alone, forlorn,
A life lived in a digital stripe,
Where happiness is always ripe,
In the silence of the room,
Though their spirit starts to fray,
They're caught in the phone's cruel trap,
Or the seeds of a bitter fall?
A phone held tight in bed.
Through the newsfeed's endless flow,
In this digital, mirrored hall,
And shadows yield to light.
Is it not their souls you should hold so near,
In the darkness of the night,
A phone held tight in bed.
Tap, tap, tap,
Swipe! Scroll! Swipe!
They've traded their soul, swipe by swipe,
And eyes heavy and red,
For a screen's cold, empty sway.
And life's a highlight reel, it seems.
And to feel the sun's warm kiss,
A race that can't be won.
Tap, tap, tap,
Swipe! Scroll! Swipe!
Swipe! Scroll! Swipe!
Is it joy that you find there?