JulyPoWriMo 13

When the rage becomes so overwhelming
There is no where to turn except some chords
And words declaimed with the simplicity
It seems unobtainable to muster
At least the artist could put the song out
Into the ether where all sound bites live
And find a way into your synapses
So you can mouth the words and feel the pulse
The unmasked faces will try to silence
As the days and months hours minutes seconds
Drag to an unresolvable future
As the wind turns in many directions
So many might hear at once the same sound
The death of silence spins the world around