The Poor Boy with No Cell Phone

The little poor boy attends his first concert

Ready with matches in pocket

His parents can't afford to buy him a cell phone

His father tells him of the good old days

When fans lit matches, not cell phones

And a beautiful glow filled the arena

When their favorite song played

Or a sad and famous song from the radio

Just like the one the band plays the opening notes to

And the audience cheers and claps

And hold up their lit up cell phones

And sway to the music and sing along

The little boy lights a match

And lifts the flickering flame as high as he can

But the fire burns his gentle fingers

He drops the match to the wooden floor

The small venue crowded with fans

Are obllivious to the small fire growing

They think it part of the show

But the little boy knows the danger and runs out

Unaware that the wooden venue burst into flame

Shouts and screams in the distant fade away

The boy catches a bus home

He sits by a window

And watches the glow of the flames

Crown the sky like a halo

Just like his father described.