Who killed my cellarphone?

Who killed my cellarphone?
I, said the isolated scattered storm.
With my acid water above NYC,
I soaked and killed your cellarphone.

Who'll try to fix it?
I, said Louis,
With my toolbox and crumsy hands,
I will try to fix your cellarphone.

Who'll recover all the lost numbers?
I, said myself.
With my e-mail and scattered address books,
I will try to collect my lost numbers.

My old cellphone will be the replacement for this poor flip phone.
Good bye and farewell my phone. Rest in peace, you did well. - j.