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Poem

A thousand, or more, people in trance, 
Locked in a blackened out vault,
Give themselves to a warm, calming feel, 
Throw away all of their thought,

Then the show gets loud, who will you be, 
You choose leather jacket and jeans,
You choose to be the love heart in the middle, 
Of love in your wildest dreams,

And the drums are alive, with the rhythm of now, 
They take from you total control,
Forcing your thoughts to quieten down, 
This magical balm for your soul,

These thousands of people at a gig in your head, 
The music alone in the dark,
Calm your thoughts to a single one voice, 
Setting your mind to restart.

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