They used to never write and never phone.
These days they also never e-mail back.
No matter how adorable my tone,
Each you’ve-got-mail is viewed as an attack.
My queries: “Do you hydrate?”
Observations: “Wool wears better.”
And reminders: “Careless brushing leads to plaque.”
Though all well meant, are viewed as an attack.
In order to provide them with a batch
Of articles I feel compelled to share,
I often, when I e-mail, click “attach.”
But do they ever download? Not a prayer.
E. coli—where it’s hiding.
Mortgage frauds—the latest victims.
And the theft of your identity—beware!
These must be read, but are they? Not a prayer.
My need to guide my children is intense,
But frankly they don’t seem to give a damn.
Indeed, they’ve mobilized a strong defense—
They’re sending all my e-mails straight to spam.
I’m trying to alert them
To the risks of daily living,
And to every epidemic, threat, and scam.
But I think they’ve turned their mother into spam.