April 22, 2018

Nobody picks up their pen,

Aiming to inspire,

Instead they're arming to aspire

To frighten via what they hurl

Across the airless space

That frames the public debate.

No one dips the quill

Into the ink

That could deepen the dialogue.

Rather they shriek

Shrill, bang the structures

That gave them room to speak.

No one seeks out the meter,

Quaint and measured

That infuses reasoned thought,

Defuses the abstract anger

Causing doors to slam

And uglier passions to soar.

No one wants the bard,

Battered and bruised

In a world where depth

Matters less than the noise

That clatters and confuses:

Song sacrificed for discord.