The Lost T.V.

She stands alone,
Wide and square,
With gray hair flowing down her back,
Her glossy, black outfit changing with
Every click.

It's okay,
For she is not lonely,
Someone is watching her,
Laughing, crying, or screaming,
But sometimes she wonders,
What a real friend is like.

She's always wanted to know,
About the outside world,
But she can't leave her home,
For she is locked up,
With one chain that's stuck,
To the wall.