My Right Arm

I do not think I could survive Without the arm I use To do the thousand things it does; I guess this isn't news. But somehow something's come along That means as much to me And getting by without it Would comprise a tragedy. Don't judge me, for I'm pretty sure That many can relate. My iPhone's like a body part That should not separate. So when it wasn't working Panic flooded through my soul, Like my right arm yanked right off And leaving just a gaping hole. A guy at Staples fixed it. Like a surgeon, he did catch What the problem was, so my "right arm" He got to reattach.