Progress
No smoke comes from the chimney.
Snow lies lifeless on the ground.
The universe seems frozen.
Unable to make a sound.
The train doesn’t run through here anymore.
Not even the bandits come around.
.
Neither truth nor lie.
Sky seems dead and gray.
If you laughed or if you cried.
No one could hear you anyway.
.
The popping of the vinyl will never be heard.
Or affect anyone’s soul.
In the 4G world.
Of the autotune digital upload.
Copyright © Kelly Crenshaw | Year Posted 2020
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