It Will Make You Cry

It took our peace, replaced it with noise,
It stole our calm, disguised as toys.
It took our sleep, it drained our mind,
It made us scroll and go blind.

It killed our patience, weakened our grace,
It made us slaves to a glowing face.
It stole our focus, blurred our goals,
It captured hearts and swallowed souls.

It ended talks that hearts once knew,
It broke families — bonds so true.
It froze our smiles, it dimmed our eyes,
It fed us fake and silenced cries.

It ruined meals, no one speaks,
Only scrolling fingers, tired cheeks.
It replaced letters with empty chats,
It took our warmth, replaced with apps.

It stole our time, it killed our zeal,
We chase what’s virtual, not what’s real.
It broke our trust, it spread lies,
It made the truth so hard to rise.

It took our dua, our connection above,
It weakened faith, it rusted love.
It took our friends, it blurred our sight,
It made us scroll all day, all night.

It killed our dreams, it drained our will,
It gave us dopamine, but left us still.
It ruined our marriage, our sacred ties,
It made us compare, it made us despise.

It stole modesty, killed shame,
It made fitnah a viral game.
It took our family, relatives, kin,
Replaced real presence with shallow skin.

It took our health, our walks, our rest,
It made us chase likes, views, and the rest.
It made us arrogant, made us cold,
Turned young hearts into souls so old.

It stole our barakah, our rizq, our noor,
And made us crave for more and more.
It made us forget the Aakhirah’s call,
One thing did it all… destroyed it all.

It took our peace, our faith, our hope,
Our akhlaaq, our sabr, our scope.
It took our eyes away from skies,
And glued them where the falsehood lies.

It took our tears, it dulled our pain,
It made us smile — but all in vain.
It took our hearts, it made us slaves,
To screens we worship, to trends we crave.

It took our purpose, our deen, our light,
It made day fade into endless night.
It took our life, our every tone 
That one small thing

the mobile phone.