Little silver menace,
you sit and stare at me,
a contrivance of the devil
designed to steal my sleep.
Your glaring mirror-eyes
reflect all that you see,
each smile that's caught in them
is turned back, and laughs at me.
You wicked little tyrant,
you rule both day and night
but oddly, though I hate you
when you're gone, I'm not alright.
I miss hearing your singing,
the tones both high and low.
I feel I need you with me
going everywhere I go.
You could be my salvation
when I'm feeling quite alone,
or your voice could bring great pain
but that's not you -- you're just my phone. |
Submission Name: Silver Devil
