It’s obligation
To look at the black mean screen
Perfect for my hand
*
The glow draws me in
Sometimes it’s simply boredom
That keeps me here, there
*
What doors would open
If I could just switch it off?
Is a screen a door?
*
Where does the door go?
I can open it by touch
Turning my mind’s knob.
photos by Barbara Paulsen at tandemechoes.com
The Exceptional Everyday 
Wow. You have written a realistic and relatable poem. Nice. 🙂
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I also feel obligated to that glow…..a little bit like a trained dog:) It’s a constant struggle.
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