The Telephone: A Sonnet

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Whenever the telephone does ring,
My heart always skips a beat,
I do not know with what news I will meet,
Will I cry or will I sing?
With such doubts in my mind,
I unwillingly creep up to it,
At once I wish I could peacefully sit,
For sad news I always hate to find.
But my mind then gets filled with a thought,
If I cannot face a mere telephone,
I am the cowardest person ever known,
Deciding its better to be brave than not,
A new inspiration gets filled within me,
And thus I answer the call with much glee.


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