Serenade sung through a chain link fence.
Timid and tamed, hung and framed,
Locked and guarded, cruelly regarded.
Serenade sung so forced and tense.
Symphony played in a theater on fire.
Frenzied and worried, hastened and hurried,
Relentlessly razed in an overbearing blaze.
Symphony played in its funeral pyre.
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I love the way you ended this poem...
ReplyDeleteGood work!
You have a real grasp on this style of writing; it's so refreshing to see the way you write. Brilliant stuff, keep it up :) xx
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