The Music Man
The music man
erect and tall
yet softly whispers sound
he has created all the
notes to ever fall
yet still no love he has found
the world owes him much
but there is no one he can call
we say we love the outside,
yet the outside's just a wall
Now the music is all thunder
it presses all night long
it makes us stop and wonder,
where has our sweet song gone?
So this music man is silent
after he regretfully played his tune
the world will ask it's violence,
what next will humans ruin?
Copyright © Anna Nomaly | Year Posted 2016
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