One Hit Wonder

The pressure you bear glares at me through the man-made smoke screen that forms the barrier between you and your diminutive audience. It’s years since nineteen fifty-nine, yet today you can still find a niche somewhere just to render your immense hit of yesteryear. born to be a star in the glare of the spotlight which way the signpost As I look at your inclining stance against the microphone stand, emancipation within my mind takes place, instantly focusing on a different era seeing you as you were those years ago. Full length life size guru on my bedroom wall, the pastel rose petalled wallpaper in stark contrast to your black leather gear and shining greased hair, an air of manly pose, yet a portrait of candid innocents. flexible music moves on with change a wild child how could one forget Reality surges back as your voice begins to drift into obnoxiousness, eyes, that begin to spotlight your habitual life of living the fast lane, each note promising nothing, each breath giving no perception of negative opinions, only the sentimentality of the loyal few are perceived. Oh! What price is fame, pressurized to reproduce instantly each session failure contributing to your dilemma driving you deeper, into this abyss of shame! dream on each release everyday a symphony truth a bitter pill © Harry J Horsman 2020