My first poem in ballad genre. Please rectify my mistakes.

The phone is chiming tring tring,
All visions are geared up to who is calling.
Who can it be? assumptions commenced,
A needy relative or a lost friend.

The phone is chiming tring, tring, tring,
Please pick up the phone, daddy yells.
Mom’s involved in the kitchen, it’s not her only responsibility,
Leave your assignment, attend the call,
Maybe a plan for the concert or invite to attend the ball.

The phone is still ringing tring, tring, tring,
Children are busy with their paintings.
Alas, daddy had to get up from his couch,
I am the person on duty to attend each and every buzzer.
I had to switch off the game of football, growled he stood,
He retorted the ringing tool, after who will pick up a pass it on the game.

The phone ceased ringing, as he picked the receiver,
The caller was his mother in law, the person who he despises. (in the psyche)
Yet he had to attend it with a smile and asked about her health to be kind.
The receiver was handed to his soul mate with a grin,
Now, for two hours the phone won’t ring. (for obvious reasons)

© Umera 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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