The Concert of Mankind
Contributed by
topcatcrowther
on
Sunday, 10th September 2006 @ 05:31:39 PM in AEST
Topic:
StoryPoetry
|
Everyman has his secrets,
Clandestine vaults, few see inside,
I knew of a man once,
Let me tell you the story of this mans dark history,
Jonathan Smillsberry,
For this man was a conductor, who played very well indeed,
He once commanded thousands under his heavy thumb,
Crushing scores of Fathers, Mothers and many a dreamer,
He composed an orchestra of thieves, dressed in pin stripe,
The sheets of his music, wickedly drawn up, played to perfection,
His notes, plucked from the poor,
As he waves the baton, singling out those for the pit,
The beating drum of his iron heart plays, rusted red with the tears of the fallen,
However…
Fraud was his next tune,
These notes, he could not play so well.
And so now he sails adrift on a soundless ocean of failure,
His small vessel, over loaded with accountability,
He barely stays afloat,
No compass to guide him,
And storm clouds shroud the stars he looks to.
A warning of his hubris.
Copyright ©
topcatcrowther
... [
2006-09-10 17:31:39] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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