The Scream Poem by Mary Champion

I came here, just to watch the water flow,
and soothe the anxious thoughts that haunt my nights.
To feel a cooling breeze benignly blow
and somehow put my troubled mind to rights.
The gentle river sounds like music played
to soothe the savage breast, as Congreve wrote,
so, I was more than minorly dismayed
when these two came along and jarred the note.
I wouldn't mind if they would just converse
in muted tones, so I still felt at peace,
But what I got was certainly far worse,
and leaves me screaming for their swift decease.
Back to back, two conversations rage,
in loud and strident, irritating tones,
I curse the worst affliction of this age,
two morons having rows on mobile phones.