January 9, 2012 by Employee of the Fukin Month
Quick flick of the wrist and the volume explodes,
A sharp twist, then a pop and your words unload.
Static tuned out with the rhythm now in place,
A beat is what I want, something I can master and embrace.
A tap of the foot, a nod of the head and now the entire room is filled with a tune that is nothing but profound.
Hearts are won, minds are entranced, the echo of “wow” is the remaining sound.
The crowd stands still and waits for another mode,
Surely something this exquisite won’t end, a celebration has yet to be bestowed.
Chance is all that remains, a decision must be made.
Shall the pied piper continue, or will the music fade?
Candles are lit, murmurs begin to flow.
The volume increases, as if there was never even a show.
How can one minor break create such havoc amongst these people?
Especially when the symbol expressed displays an American Eagle.
Has hope been lost? Perhaps the idea was way too much to consume.
It’s quite unfortunate when you no longer recognize the successes achieved because you’ve blocked it out. I’ll leave you to it, since you seem happy to assume.
Freedom, liberty and justice for all – isn’t that what we should recall?
Shock waves implode and the microphone is left all alone.
The sound of volume a thing we’re no longer allowed to condone.
(c) Miks Poems
Submitted to Poets Rally # 60