Rage against the dying of the light,
Dylan said, while father died.
I did more for him, than he ever did for me
Said Robert Zimmerman, I mean Bob Dylan.
The light goes out, not gradually,
But all at once,
As if you're smutting it up with four
Girls half your age on Tuesday,
On a walker heaving green lungers
By Wednesday afternoon.
Rock and roll stole my
My soul, with its promises of fame
And fortune and glory, thank you Roger Waters.
What price, paid, freedom forgiven
Not for the all of Mammon,
But for the want to rock
And not to roll.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.