Hell

This is a really weird poem that I wrote some time ago. It's my take on what Hell will be like... Repetition of what you dread.

The phone rings.
She picks it up.
Shock.
And the receiver falls.
*****
The phone rings.
She hesitates,
picks it up.
Shock.
And the receiver falls.
*****
The phone rings.
She sits tight.
Prays the deja-vu would end.
She picks it up.
Horror.
And the receiver drops.
*****
The phone rings.
She wont pick it up.
She wont.
But she does.
Shock.
Horror.
And the receiver drops.