Chris Matthews.

Communication.

 

Communication of old; was using mirrors or Smoke,

Now we speak on phones, keep chatting till we Choke.

Text away, to hearts Delight,

Even corrects, when we're not Right.

 

Land-line. Radio. Mobile or Skype,

Type.. is now consigned to Landfill,

Downhill.. into History,

Mystery.. of signals.. lost in Space,

The advancement of, the human Race.

 

Have you ever phoned a helpdesk and been put on Hold?

Sold.. the notion, your call is Salient,

Ambient.. music to soothe your Ears,

Fears.. of abandonment hurt your Pride,

Disillusioned when; you find they've Lied.

 

Sometimes a robotic; voice is on Call,

Fall.. into the trap of an automated System,

Listen.. to the monotony of inputting Numbers,

Slumbers.. the mind, into a somnolent Dream,

Beauty.. to be woken, by a prince's Scream!

 

All we want, are human Voices,

Choices..Given; Not taken Away,

Dismay.. when faced with tunneled Menus,

Venues.. arrived at, by corralling the User,

Communication is the only Looser.

 

Please be aware this call may Be Recorded,

Just as the system and government Ordered.

Careful what you Say and Do!

Someone.. may; Eavesdrop on You!!

 

©Chris Matthews. 10/03/2014