A Theme Song For The Malcontent
A jukebox ending the silence
masks the dialogue in your mind;
That beat’s a saving grace,
with a chorus left on repeat;
Guitars that are louder than hell
are fresh air that open those lungs;
Finally you exhale,
the sound explodes into a storm;
Snarling they call it an anthem,
put your money where your mouth is!
Sometimes it is joined noise.
Either way? It will fire you up.
Hooking up when you need it most,
nothing matters but three minutes;
Bottled melodic aggression
tends to start a virus;
A theme song for the malcontent.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
