Shofa Miah turns to verse and mourns the loss of her beloved mobile in January

I saw the pickpocket in the shop browsing and acting suspiciously in Stratford Broadway Shopping Centre. I warned my daughter to keep her phone safe, but, lo and behold, within 15 minutes, my phone was lifted by that same female pickpocket who swiped it from my pocket as I reached up to pay for my shopping. Here is my poetic tribute to my beloved phone
A poem for my Samsung Galaxy S22Ultra (2022–2024)
Words cannot express what you meant to me,
From the day you arrived at my doorstep from the Far East corner of the world,
Over wrapped in plastic, I knew you were mine and mine only.
I knew our adventure was about to begin,
I got you decked up and covered, In a bullet proof case,
When you fell I got hurt,
As you were my precious love.
No scratches or marks allowed,
You were perfection.
I started telling you everything from day one.
You listened, you absorbed and you stored,
You became my back up brain.
You were my external filing cabinet – A to Zed.
You held my secrets in cabinet X,
Yes, there was an X Files folder which you password protected for me.
I held you like a lotus flower in my hands first thing in the morning and last thing at night.
Sometimes we didn’t sleep, remember?
We laughed, played, we sang, we searched for nonsense online, and we never forgot to do our night prayers together before hugging each other goodnight.
You were a hero during my worst times and my buddy during the best of times.
You saw my cringey poses and told me when I looked ugly.
You knew my best angles and you made me look taller, immortalising me in your filters, producing timeless photos that were Bollywood worthy.
You travelled with me across the world and were the envy of many people,
You had class, style and panache. Together we were … formidable.
I will never forget our two years together,
My buddy, my friend, my saviour.
With you, went part of my heart and soul,
Not to mention my organised chaos.
When you were snatched from me, NOMOPHOBIA kicked in,
My heart broke, I felt lost, part of me died.
Sorry buddy, I had to erase your memory remotely,
I had to block you using your IMEI number
To protect ME, I had to delete YOU.
My whole 5ft 0 inch existence
Was inside your 5 millimetre memory chip.
Like Arnold from Total Recall,
You will start again – fresh.
With a new person who will love you just as much as I did.
I’ll be okay my dear love, I’ll be okay
No news is bad news
Independent news outlets like ours – reporting for the community without rich backers – are under threat of closure, turning British towns into news deserts.
The audiences they serve know less, understand less, and can do less.
If our coverage has helped you understand our community a little bit better, please consider supporting us with a monthly, yearly or one-off donation.
Choose the news. Don’t lose the news.
Monthly direct debit
Annual direct debit
£5 per month supporters get a digital copy of each month’s paper before anyone else, £10 per month supporters get a digital copy of each month’s paper before anyone else and a print copy posted to them each month. £50 annual supporters get a digital copy of each month's paper before anyone else.