Here he comes
Loud and bold
There she stands
Quiet but not cold
The disembodied
Words resound
You cannot see him
But you hear his sound
They penetrate
Through night and day
Those strident words
He always says
The rambunctious ruckus
He revels in
Will grate on your gears
The plummy voice he uses well
Is cancer to your ears
"Cacophony" you hear her call
Her sing-song harmony upon him falls
She touched his loud persistent roar
It calmed his clamor and he wanted more
She said but little
Yet more he heard
So appealing
Were her words
With a ringing rhythm
Her melody sounded
Her sing-song voice resounded
Harmony, her greatest glee,
Found sympathy on Cacophony,
With resonance and musicality,
She took his plummy voice
And with her name she struck
A chord that brought them unity
***
Okay, so I just wrote this as a school assignment, but I actually kind of liked it, so I decided to type it up and post it. I hope you enjoy reading it. :)
YOU ARE READING
That's Wrong
PoetryI feel _____. "That's wrong." I enjoy _____. "That's wrong." I love ______. "That's wrong." I believe ______. "That's wrong." When will I simply exist and they say, "You are wrong."
