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.
Comments about The Rock Is The Roll by peter francis
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
peter francis's Other Poems
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl