peter francis

The Rock Is The Roll - Poem by peter francis

I’m running, holding in a bomb,
I dash past,
Before you see me I’m gone.

The string is about to expire,
I’m a muse on a fuse,
And an artist will rise from the fire.

That’s how I felt when I first heard rock n’ roll.
Do you remember how that made you feel?
Do you remember how you lost control?
Like being given to a key to an ideal.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, March 7, 2007

Poem Edited: Friday, January 28, 2011

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