In the quiet corner of a bustling room,
A glowing screen holds secrets untold,
Whispers of voices that dance in gloom,
In its light, our stories unfold.

Fingers glide softly over glass,
Messages sent through digital waves,
Connections formed, yet moments pass,
In this realm, we are both masters and slaves.

Eyes locked on its radiant face,
A portal to worlds both near and far,
A phone, a keeper of time and space,
In its embrace, we find who we are.

Yet in its silence, a gentle plea,
To look beyond its glowing gaze,
For in the world of reality,
True connection finds its ways.