![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKAxzddhUqoo7KQKELV1vmvftzvyRM_0_KXwIMH4OJ2jYiFMqu60DjsQZKvlAGXfzPJRyM2UBcGODHKCVHgo91iJAzykhIjV5a70tJO-taYe9N-k9IEL9o6CvaKGWnLrH7rW_b/s400/TV.jpg)
The Watcher
I stayed at a hotel recently;
It had all the normal stuff
One needs to be quite comfortable,
No sense in living rough.
In the centre of the room,
On a cabinet of it’s own,
Was an enormous television,
With a remote beside the phone.
A brochure proudly told me
Of the shows of every kind
That I had the chance to choose between,
If feeling so inclined.
Four days later, as I packed my things,
Preparing to move on,
It stood there black and sulking
As I had never turned it on.
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© 2011 J Cosmo Newbery
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