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
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