Apple


Up, up, I’m on my feet
It’s time to eat
My mom and dad
They’re making me mad.

IPhone in my hand
It’s a whole new brand
I am not able
To use it at the table.

In order to begin
I cannot commit this sin
I’m trying to resist
But if you insist.

Oh, vice
Your taste is so nice
Who cares about food
You’re my only good.

Heaven turns into hell
Parents start to yell
They’re making a mess
A chaos, no less.

It’s a constant grapple with that damn Apple.

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This Poems Story

A funny poem related to religion and the usage of phones in the modern era.