Ode To My Nokia Cell Phone

You cannot take pictures
Of me at the zoo.
You cannot play music
Or Spiderman 2.
You do not fit nicely
In chic Fendi purses.
You don’t record movies
Or cite Shakespeare verses.
You’re not decked in pinstripe
Or covered in “bling.”
You do not play Britney
Or Snoop when you ring.
Sometimes you dial “6”
When I press number “4.”
Sometimes I get voicemail
You choose to ignore.
It pains me to say it,
But, Nokia, well,
If phones were all mansions
You’d be more like a cell.

But wait just one minute --
Don’t quit on me yet.
We both have done things
That I know we regret.
You’ve heard me sob loudly,
Laugh like a buffoon
And repeatedly murder
The “Happy Birthday” tune.
So, let’s stay together
To reach out and touch
I can’t quit you, Nokia:
You just know too much.