It’s beating me,
Leaving me laying,
Bruised, battered, and broken.
Each slam of plastic hide,
The tremors pelt me.
Each nickel woven whip,
Of thick and wispy size,
Their vibrations slash me.
While their leaders voice rings,
reminding of each paroxysm,
That my memory induces.
Keys struck harder than me,
Bellowing out synthetic insults,
Carrying their acts to sublime heights.
Remind you, of reminding yourself,
That moment where all else failed,
That they did not.
Bath in that thought,
Pumped out by speakers,
Ozzy, Stevie, and many more,
At the front and proud,
Embrace it, move to it, love it,
For even when they are gone,
They can be found in elsewhere,
Sia, Adam, and others rising.
This is the only given in this world,
That this gift that has always gave,
Will give and give,

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