Building 87
Deafening
In my brain
Right here
Right now
Such a loud
Screaming silence
I fear
I may never
Hear again
Not a stirring
Or the whirring
Of a mind
On full create
Or the dreaming
Strategic scheming
Of the music man’s parade
And if there’s time
To save them all
Or only time
To lyric a song
Neither can be born
Neither can be formed
Without sound