Deafened
Tiny musical notes escaped from a silver shining flute
And a lovely melody entered eager ears.
The musical notes drifted from the flute like wafting scents
And they always left a lasting imprint, always.
They would like to have lulled the cheering crowd
But it was very impossible with clapping hands
Bombing soothing tunes barbarically like flying aces
And the clapping hands were very much annoying.
So all the time the musicians played they hid snarls
Because they couldn’t hear their own melody.
Something rude about those skin slappers.
They were being cheated by their noise
While the experienced all-silent professional musicians just continued,
Playing: they never rolled their weary eyes,
And the weary musicians still smiled at them, soon
They were humbled by that blasting applause.
Maybe they did not mind that barbaric bombing
And maybe the weary musicians felt warm for the first time.
Meanwhile a cell phone went off buzzing crazily and the conductor
quit.
Katy Thompson
Block: 3
January 22, 2012
No comments:
Post a Comment