Poem – History, Modern, Past :

flame

I’m not sure I love the modern world
I remember meeting a girl
And getting her number on a faded flyer for a terrible gig.
Then I would have to find the courage to call
Ask her mother nicely if she was around
Then the sound of her sing-song voice on the line
And my heart jump-jump-jumping.
I enjoyed dreaming of her
Not hearing the ping-ping-ping of the phone
When I was home alone.
But then maybe we would still be together
If I could have texted ‘I love you, forever’
When she was at home with another boy.
History destroys me like a broken Nokia.

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