Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Beneath my window some workmen are blaring bad 80s rock and, worse, singing along. How come I never seem to have a gun when I could use one. This will go on for mindless hours. The day's silence but a memory; It's time for me to flee.   ~mce
0
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 9:38 AM UTC
Uninvited Concert
Beneath my window some workmen are blaring bad 80s rock and, worse, singing along. How come I never seem to have a gun when I could use one. This will go on for mindless hours. The day's silence but a memory; It's time for me to flee.   ~mce
Sorry, I hate noise in the morning.
mike-essig
Written by
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 9:38 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem