The Sex Pistols Tape Poem by LeeAnn Azzopardi

It had an odd smell when I took it
Out of the case
I still remember it
I would played half of it, every Friday night
After everyone went to bed
With my headphones exploding F-bombs
I was ready for the weekends
Now, it sits on a shelf, waiting to be played once more
Even though, the odd smell is gone
I want to play it
But at fifty-three, I lost the rebellion
And I need rest to function
For I am not spry anymore